The Next Top Model
by C. Jordan
Summary: *Finale* The Next Top Model gets new contestants. Tyra gets more than she bargained for. Written with Sam-Junno and Renji's Girll.
1. Meet the Contestants

Rangiku stood on the sidewalk of the busy Tokyo street and looked way up at the ten-story hotel building. Around her gathered the other thirty-one contestants. Eyes wide, she looked down at Momo.

"This looks like the place," the strawberry-blonde said with a sigh.

Momo nodded, trying to keep out of Kuukaku's way as the busty dark-haired woman leaned closer, squinting through the brass and glass double doors.

"I, I guess. It looks --"

"Let's go in." Kuukaku heaved her travel bag up on her shoulder better.

"I just want to say, before we all go in," Retsu said from behind the large group of women and girls, "good luck to all of you. I think you're all beautiful!"

"Oh, thank you!" Yoruichi said, nudging Soifon, grinning.

"You bet!" Yachiru chirped. "You, too!" She tugged on Nanao's robe sleeve. "Aren't we?"

"Oh, yes. Everyone has a chance," Nanao agreed.

"Except them." Hiyori said it.

Nine black-robed figures turned to look at the eighteen white-clad group of assorted female Arrancar standing nearby.

"Hey, we've got just a good a chance at becoming The Next Top Model as any shinigami!" Halibel hooted, putting her hands on her hips and standing straighter to see over Nell and Milarose.

"Even better!" Apache added.

"I think they've got a chance." A small timid voice from among the black-robed group.

They all turned to look at Orihime, dressed in her school uniform.

"You're outnumbered," Yachiru said to the Living Girl. "Better watch it, chubby-chest."

Rangiku, Yoruichi, and Retsu looked to the small girl.

"Oops," Yachiru said. Orihime's cheeks colored.

Kuukaku pushed the door open. "Let's go!"

* * *

Shinigami, Arrancar, and a few Living females flooded the hotel lobby, mumbling and jostling, shoving and grouching at each other. Across the lobby Jay Manuel and Miss Jay Alexander stood speechless in their white-black piping lined tuxedoes.

Jay turned to Miss Jay. "Holy meard, we're in trouble, Miss Jay. Where did Tyra find these contestants?"

"Don't look at me, sista," the ambiguous runway trainer mumbled, shaking his double afro until the glitter sprinkled out. "Some of 'em are stack-ed."

Jay put on his best plastic smile. "Showtime." He raised his hands as the thirty-two contestants swarmed the lobby, congregating before them.

"Hallo! I see you've all got the memo about the black and white dress. Perfect. Love it. Sheik and somehow ..." he frowned over the shinigami robes and tailored white Arrancar outfits "... redundant. Well. Hey," he pointed to Milarose, "love the bustier. Tawdry but tough. Makes a statement."

Milarose cocked her head to one side. "You haven't seen anything yet."

Miss Jay did a double take at the Arrancar's hole below her top. "Is that a hole?"

Jay shook his head. "Just a lighting trick. Just a gimmick to make her stand out."

Miss Jay shrugged. "It's working."

Jay waved a hand over to another direction where Orihime, Tatsuki, and Chizuru were standing. "Are you girls lost? This is a closed set."

Orihime frowned. "Oh, well..."

Tatsuki glared at him. "What's _that_ supposed to mean? You don't think we're pretty enough to be The Next Top Model?"

"Ooh, attitude. Spunky."

Miss Jay nodded, more glitter fell. "You say it, honey!"

"Okay, stay, stay." Jay looked out over the pack of shinigami, Arrancar, and a few other contestants. "Welcome! You're the final thirty-two finalists from the four thousand entrants to The Next Top Model! I'm Jay Manuel. I'll be your photo shoot director. To my right, as you all know, is Miss Jay, runway trainer and member of the judging panel. Today you're going to be narrowed down to twenty, and from there to the final fourteen that will go on to compete for the grand prize."

"Where's Tyra?" Hiyori yelled.

"Tyra will be along a little later," Miss Jay said, batting his thick eyelashes. "You just wait, honey."

"I'm not honey," Hiyori mumbled.

"You're all going into the conference room," Jay said, "and from there you'll go in one at a time before the judges to show us a little about yourself. So head on in there now, and we'll see how you walk and learn a little about you."

* * *

The contestants invaded the conference room where two long tables were set up with catered finger food and drinks, separating into groups of black and white, with Orihime and Tatsuki tagging along after the shinigami.

"Oh, my favorite!" Orihime said, grabbing a plate.

Tatsuki surveyed the tables decked with platters of food. "What is?"

"All of it."

"Orihime!"

A third school uniform joined them, and Tatsuki intervened before Chizuru could glomp on Orihime.

"Back off, tart!" Tatsuki said, keeping the bespectacled classmate at a distance.

"Ooh, we get to room together," Chizuru said gleefully to Orihime, ignoring Tatsuki. "Like a big slumber party!"

"You won't make it," Tatsuki growled.

Across the table Rukia was loading her own plate, trying to ignore Yachiru's pink head that kept bumping into her plate. She wove around the hyperactive girl to the next table.

"No sweets?" the girl asked. "What kind of a lame buffet is this?" She turned to the figure behind her now. "Did you bring any candy from the barracks?" Before she got an answer she looked to Ururu moving along the opposite side of the table. "Got any candy on you?"

The side door broke open and twenty-two of the contestants reached for their swords before they remembered they were unarmed. Jay entered and waved his hands to get their attention.

"Ladies, ladies, can I get your attention, please," he said, smile in place. "We have a few preliminaries to get out of the way before we begin the judges interviews." A look of confusion crossed his face. "I'm not sure what this means, we've never had these stipulations before, but," he pulled a paper from his tuxedo pocket and looked at it, "here goes, ladies. For this competition there will be no going bankai. There will be no kidou spells allowed. All reiatsu must be kept under control at all times."

He frowned. "Reiatsu. I don't know what that means, ladies, but I like the sound of the word. Oh, and shinigami and Arrancar will set aside their differences in the interest of fair play." He looked up from the paper at them. "I hope you ladies know what that means, because I have no idea."

"Get on with it," Nell called to him.

"Right. Okay then. We'll call you all in one at a time to meet with the judges," he said. "You'll be telling us a little about yourself, and giving us a walk. After that the judges will be deciding on the twenty contestants that will move on to the photo shoot." He flashes a big smile. "Let's see what you got!"

"Ooh, it's so exciting!" Apache squealed, shooting a belittling glare over the shinigami at the other table.

"First up," Jay said, looking at his list, "is Retsu." Looks out over the room. "Let's go!"

Retsu gave the other contestants a glimmer of a smile, and exited the room with Jay.

Orihime turned to Tatsuki. "Oh, I hope we do good."

Tatsuki watched her friend add another rice ball to her plate. "I don't want to be here."

"Thanks for coming with me. I never could do it by myself."

Chizuru leaned closer to them. "You have me, Orihime."

Tatsuki maneuvered between them. "Break it up, Chizuru."

* * *

In the next room over, a narrow red carpet runner was unrolled to end at a long table draped with white material, behind which sat Miss Jay, Tyra Banks -- a size svelte -- in all her shimmery chiffon pink finery, and Nigel Barker. The door opened and Retsu stepped in warily.

"The bearded lady," Miss Jay said out of the corner of his mouth.

Tyra waved Retsu in enthusiastically. "Come on in, girl. Don't be shy!"

Retsu smiled and approached the table, stopped at the end of the red carpet and smiled bigger. "I'm Retsu, Captain of the Fourth, skilled in -- well, you don't need to know that."

Tyra made a pout and lifted an eyebrow. "Okay, Retsu, you've got that classic look, oval face, excellent complexion, but I have to say you're one of the more..." Tyra pursed her lips "mature contestants we've had."

Retsu fixed her glare on the super model. "Is that a problem?"

Tyra shook her head vigorously. "No, no. Not a problem. Let's see your walk."

Retsu turned on her heel, walked briskly back down the carpet and back to them, robes swishing, one hip angling out as she rested her hand on it, flashing a smile.

"Hmm, the hair," Nigel said, "can you take out the braid and let us see what you have?"

Retsu frowned, and then unplaited the braid and swung her dark hair over her shoulder. "Better?"

"Oh, much," Tyra said. "Okay, thank you, Retsu. Can you please send in Nell?"

"I'll send her in." Retsu turned and exited the room.

Miss Jay looked to Nigel. "Much better without the beard."

Nigel nodded.

They looked up as Nell appeared in the doorway wearing a form fitting fern green satin dress and proceeded to trounce and bounce down the carpeted runaway. She stopped before the table, cocked her head to one side, and gave them a daring smile.

"I'm Nell, the most talented one in this competition," she said smoothly, her smile turning crooked at Nigel's look of appreciation. "I'm formerly from Hueco Mundo, but have been getting along just fine without that pack lately. What do you want to see?"

Tyra's eyes narrowed at the woman.

Nigel cleared his throat. "I think we've seen your walk. Give us a turn."

Nell turned, whipping her green hair around as she did, eyes glinting at the judges. "What else?"

"Well, uh..." Nigel looked to Miss Jay, who was staring dumbfounded at the contestant. "Miss Jay?"

"You've got the goods, girl," Miss Jay said. "Maybe even extra goods."

Tyra forced a smile. "That's all, Nell. Can you send in Yachiru?"

Nell gave them a parting smile and strode out of the room.

Tyra looked sharply at Nigel. "Recovered yet, Nigel?"

Nigel nodded numbly. "I'm getting there. That's quite some package she's got there."

"Hey!"

_Bang, bang, bang!_

They all looked to where Yachiru was eye level with the table, her small fist pounding on it for attention.

Tyra smiled at her. "Well, hello, there. Are you Yachiru?"

"Yes. I'm Kenny's lieutenant." She stood akimbo, both hands balled into fists, pink hair bobbing as she nodded. "Am I in? Do I win?"

Tyra studied the girl, and then looked through her stack of papers. "Are you sure you're old enough for this competition, young lady?"

"Kenny checked the 'yes' box," Yachiru said, hopping onto the table and pointing at the form before Tyra. "See. There."

Tyra nodded, sitting back in her chair. "Okay. Well, I guess you're done here. Send Milarose in, will you, sweetie?"

"Hmph." Yachiru jumped off the table. "I guess so."

Tyra looked to Miss Jay as the pink-haired girl left. "I've never seen contestants like this before, Miss Jay."

He nodded. "We could be in trouble."

They looked up as Milarose strode purposefully down the red carpet. She reached the end of it, did a side step and set one hand on her hip. "I'm Milarose, a fra -- Espada Number One, Aizen's favorite. I enjoy cosplay, sword fights, and long walks in the sand."

Nigel frowned. "You mean beach."

"What's a beach?"

He shook his head. "You have a hole in your torso."

"Oh, well, Aizen likes it, so it stays."

The judges stare at her.

"I applaud your courage for not letting it keep you from..." Tyra frowned, and then asked gently, "Would it get in the way of the competition?"

Milarose shook her head. "Why would it?"

Miss Jay squinted at the hole. "Can you shoot around that, Nigel?"

"No."

Tyra sighed. "Thank you, Milarose. Please send in Yumichika."

Milarose frowned at them and left the room.

* * *

In the conference room, where the contestants were happily munching on the food, Milarose grabbed the nearest chair and banged it on the floor until everyone looked her way.

"Yumichika! You're next!"

Rangiku looked to the man across the table from her. "Hey! You can't be here!"

He frowned at her. "Why not? It's all about beauty; not gender."

She leaned over the table, nearly making him dump his plate of food. "Does your _captain_ know you're here?"

A flicker of trepidation passed over Yumichika's face. "I was told to escort Yachiru to the competition."

Rangiku stood straighter and crossed her arms, making her bosom expand. "Were you told to _stay_?"

Yumichika scowled. "My turn before the judges."

* * *

Two minutes later the three judges were still assessing Yumichika's assets. They each looked at him carefully. Miss Jay nodded, Tyra wore her best all-encompassing-acceptance look, and Nigel looked pained.

"I think it's brave of you to embrace your true self, Yumichika," Tyra said breathily. "You've got a strong sense of purpose, commitment to your inner beauty, and I love the feather!"

Yumichika beamed. "Why, thank you, Miss Banks."

"Oh, call me Tyra!" She giggled.

"Tyra."

"Don't let those other girls give you a hard time. Crossing over is one of the most thrilling, frightening times of your life," Miss Jay said, flipping a hand at him and winking. "You'll do fine.

"Crossing ... over..." Yumichika looked confused. "Oh, I've been here before, but --"

"Don't let anyone tell you no, girl," Miss Jay said. "You look fab-u-lous!"

Yumichika nodded, smiling.

"Love your style," Tyra told him. "Send in Nemu, please."

When Yumichika had left the room, Tyra turned to Miss Jay. "Now _that_ girl will add drama to the show! Not much of a walk, but the flair she has about her -- mm, mm, mm!"

Nigel shrugged.

Nemu came in next and approached the table, waiting silently when she reached the end of the red carpet.

Tyra looked at her. "You're Nemu, honey?"

"Yes."

Nigel studied her closely. "She's got the short-skirt-long-jacket look down to a tee. Can you open up that top button, Nemu?"

Nemu undid the top button of her black fitted shihakusho.

"Can you give us a walk?" Nigel asked.

"What would you like?"

"Just walk back the way you came, and then turn around and come back."

Nemu pivoted and walked away.

"A little more bounce, Nemu," Nigel called after her.

Neum's hips swished from side to side as she walked. She turned on her heel and walked back to them.

"Can you make it more forceful?" Nigel asked when she was halfway.

Nemu put a snap in her step, halting abruptly before them.

Nigel blinked with surprise.

"Very well done," Tyra said. "Can you give us a piercing look, as if you were going to shoot daggers from your eyes?"

Nemu looked to her. "Do you want actual daggers?"

Tyra laughed. "No...no."

Nemu struck a stabbing expression, making Miss Jay sit back.

"Very good," Nigel said, nodding. "You take direction well, Nemu. Very strong. Thank you."

Tyra smiled at her. "Thank you, Nemu. Can you please send in Rangiku?"

A moment later Rangiku filled the doorway. She smiled at the judges, and did a quick walk down the red carpet, hips swishing, pausing at the end of the runner. She did her turn, hair flipping as she moved, and settled a disarming smile on the judges.

"I'm Rangiku, from Tenth Division. Nice to meet you."

"Well, yes..." Nigel said.

Tyra lifted one eyebrow. "Very powerful walk you've got there, Rangiku." She looked to Miss Jay. "Doesn't she, Miss Jay?"

"Hmm? Lord, honey, I think I just went straight." The flaccidness dropped from his slack face and Miss Jay smiled widely at Rangiku. "What's on the pendant?"

Rangiku tugged on the chain at her throat, but the pendant remained lodged -- as always. She bobbed her head. "Secrets."

"Okay, well..." Nigel looked at Tyra's notes on the table. "Very good, Rangiku. Tyra?"

"Oh. Good walk. Can you send in Halibel?" Tyra smiled, one eye twitching.

"Sure." Rangiku threw them a flirty smile and turned, hips swaying like a pendulum as she exited the room.

Nigel nearly drooled, but remembered himself.

Tyra drummed her fingers on the table. "Some of these contestants are _waaay_ beyond statuesque."

"Like amazons," Miss Jay said, nodding.

The door broke open as Halibel nearly threw it off its hinges. She stormed down the red carpet, stopped before the table, her belittling stare on the three judges.

"I'm Halibel, Espada Number One, Aizen's favorite," she said briskly. "And I'm going to win this competition."

Tyra looked through her papers. "We've already seen the Espada Number One."

Halibel glared at them. "Who? _Who?!"_

"Uh ... well..." Tyra didn't try too hard to find Milarose's form.

"You're nearly dressed, girl," Miss Jay said, waving a limp wrist. "I think the censors would eat us for lunch."

Nigel pointed at Halibel. "Let's see a turn."

Halibel did a perfectly executed turn, peeking at them from above her collar. "Am I in?"

Nigel nodded, but Tyra answered. "We're still narrowing down the twenty contestants for the photo shoot. Can you please send in Rukia?"

Halibel rolled her eyes. "I guess."

* * *

Twenty minutes later the judges' interviews were over and Jay Manuel appeared in the conference room doorway where the thirty-two contestant hopefuls were still eating at the catered tables.

"Ladies, ladies!" he said, waving his hands, grinning. "We've got our twenty contestants! I'll call out the names of the girls who will be moving on to the photo shoot. From there we'll be deciding on the final fourteen contestants who will remain in the running for The Next Top Model!"

Apache looked to Sunsun. "We're all in."

Sunsun nodded. Ururu didn't look very confident.

Jay looked at the list in his hand. "Nemu! Apache! Yachiru! Orihime! Rukia --"

Milarose sent a dark look across the room at the shinigami at the other table. "No way!"

"-- Tatsuki! Kuukaku!" Jay continued. "Nanao! Milarose! Yoruichi! Soifon --"

"Me next!" Mashiro yelled.

"-- Momo! Retsu! Mashiro! Rangiku!" Jay said, smiling out over the angry and happy faces in the room. "Nell! Yumichika!"

"This is rigged!" Halibel bellowed at him.

"-- Sunsun! Halibel and Hiyori!"

Jay pushed his smile back into place. "If I've called your name, please go through those doors," he said, pointing to a set of doors at one end of the room. "There you'll have your photo shoot, and we'll decide on the final fourteen contestants. The rest of you ladies can find your bags and take your leave."

Orihime jumped up and down, waving her hands at Tatsuki. "We're in! We're in!"

Chizuru looked at them, eyes brimming with tears behind her glasses. "I don't want to leave you, Orihime!"

"Ha! Catch ya later," Tatsuki said. She turned to Orihime. "Let's go."

* * *

After the photo shoot, Tyra, Miss Jay, and Jay Manuel congregated at a table in the smaller of the conference rooms to judge the photos of the remaining twenty contestants.

Tyra held up a photo of Rangiku. "We have no idea what some of these girls' legs look like."

Miss Jay made a circling motion with his finger at the photo. "Honey, with a stack like _that_ no one's going to notice if she has legs or not."

Jay held up photos of Momo and Rukia. "And then we have these."

Tyra shrugged, batting her eyes. "Girl next door. I've seen it a million times, Jay. Dark, somber look gets the job done."

Miss Jay held up a photo of Nemu. "Perfect symmetry. Takes direction better than any of them."

Tyra spread the other photos out on the table before them. She tapped the one of Kuukaku. "One arm. She gets our physically-challenged-I-am-not-a-victim vote."

Jay nodded and pointed at the photo of Hiyori. "Perky Pippi Longstocking meets Orphan Annie."

Miss Jay nodded to Yumichika's photo. "She's in. Cultural clash meets self-realization."

Tyra held up the photo of Nanao. "The photographer said she is to leave her glasses on at all times. Just a precaution."

Jay pointed to the photo of Soifon. "Ethnic."

Miss Jay pointed to the photo of Yoruichi. "Exotic. Absolutely feline. Did you see her walk?"

Tyra nodded, pushing a few of the photos away. "How can we have five Number One Espadas?"

Miss Jay arched an eyebrow. "And they're all Aizen's favorite? Something wrong there, honey."

Tyra put her hands carefully on the pile of photos, a wistful expression on her face. "Have we come to our decisions?"

Both Jays nodded.

* * *

"You are _sooo_ out of here," Milarose grumbled to Yumichika across the table in the conference room.

Yumichika shrugged. "It's a beauty contest, and _I am beautiful."_

Apache wrinkled up her nose at him. "Prissy."

"Sand maggot!" Yachiru added with a giggle at Apache.

Apache's eyes narrowed at the girl. "You little --"

"Ladies! Can I have your attention?" Jay Manuel said as he appeared at the doorway, waving and smiling at them. "We're going to announce the fourteen contestants that will be moving on to the final rounds!"

A chorus of squeals went through the twenty contestants.

Jay waved down the noise. "If you'll look to the wall over there," he pointed to the large white wall that had two rows of seven squares measuring two feet by one foot, "you'll see photos of our finalists!"

The contestants all looked to what appeared to be a puzzle wall out of Wheel of Fortune.

"If you don't see your photo," Jay said, still wearing his smile, "you're to leave the room and find the bus home. Okay? Let's see the first photo!"

One by one the photos appeared on the squares.

Momo, Retsu, Nemu, Yachiru, Orihime, Rukia, Tatsuki, Kuukaku, Nanao, Yoruichi, Soifon, Rangiku, Yumichika, and Hiyori all squealed. Well, actually Nemu just smiled really big.

Apache, Milarose, Sunsun, Halibel, Nell, and Mashiro all glared at Jay. Feeling his safety slipping, Jay pointed to the door quickly.

"Aizen is outside!"

The six contestants not in the finals herded out the doors, with Mashiro being caught up in the crowd. Suddenly Tyra burst through the door behind Jay and threw her hands into the air, squealing.

"Where are my finalists?!"

The contestants all squealed in response.

Tyra jumped up and down, her tight pink chiffon dress making her look like a mermaid. "Oh, you're all the best! This is going to be the most fabulous season yet! I picked you all because you're all so very special -- each and every one of you!"

The finalists cheer, congratulating one another.

"Now," Tyra said, smiling over them, "on to the house!"


	2. Meanwhile

Aizen looked out of the top floor balcony of the Tokyo hotel, smiling broadly at the view below of the city lights in the night.

"You should see this view, Tousen. Amazing."

At the table of the lavish hotel room Tousen sat running his fingers over a Braille version of a girlie magazine. "Hmph."

"No. I mean it. Absolutely amazing."

Suddenly the door opened and Gin stepped in, dressed in black Dockers and a gray brushed cotton shirt, his necktie askew.

"How about a knock, Gin?" Aizen said, turning and frowning at the other man.

Gin pulled on his tie ends and headed straight for the three panel mirror on the wall near the table. "It wasn't locked."

Aizen scowled at him.

"Besides, he's here," Gin said, nodding to Tousen at the table.

"The toilet won't flush in my room," Tousen said, turning a page of the magazine.

"So you only come in here ... to..." Gin made a face in the mirror as he pulled at the knot in the tie. "Yuck."

Aizen ran a hand through his hair as a breeze mussed it out of place. He glanced at Gin. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Out to find the nightlife here." Gin snugged the tie up to his collar. "I'd invite ya, but I know ya got things to do."

Aizen tried to brush his hair back into place, making strands of it droop over his eyes. "You're supposed to be here to support the women."

"The show don't air 'til tomorrow." Gin looked to Tousen. "Whaddya reading?"

Tousen held up the magazine, opened to a layout.

Gin recoiled and nearly opened his eyes.

Tousen lowered the magazine and ran his fingers over the Braille bumps. "They have some fascinating articles in here. This one woman is studying to be a marine biologist."

Gin looked to Aizen, and then back to the mirror. "Just came to say bye. I'm outta here."

"Get me some industrial strength hair gel while you're out," Aizen said, trying to push his hair back into its gravity-defying style.

"Maybe."

The more Aizen combed his fingers through his hair, the more it hung into his face. "Maybe hairspray..."

Gin and Tousen both looked to him abruptly.

Aizen looked back at them with palpable embarrassment. "... Was that out loud?"

Gin nodded, grinning. "Yep. Ya want hairspray?"

"...No..."


	3. Lolita Photo Shoot

The stretch limousine pulled up in front of the tall two-story house surrounded by privacy hedges and mature oak trees. The car stopped in the semi-circle drive, before the double doors, and Orihime threw open one of the rear doors.

She jumped out. "We're here! Tatsuki, we're really here!"

Tatsuki pulled herself out of the car, followed by Yachiru and the rest of the shinigami women.

They all looked the adobe siding of the Spanish style house.

"Wow," Rukia said, eyes wide on the building.

Momo gawked at the house until Rangiku grabbed her arm.

"Let's go!"

Inside the main floor was a combination of stucco walls and walnut beams, the spacious living room opening into a lounging area and leading into a large kitchen. Out the sliding glass doors beyond they could see a patio and in-ground pool.

"A pool!" Yachiru cried, jumping up and down. "Yes!"

Each grabbed the bags and followed the curving staircase of ornate wrought-iron to the second level. They paused to look into the first of the four bedrooms.

"Ooh," Rangiku said, smiling at the pale lavender walls, "I'm taking this one."

Momo nodded, peeking in. "There're four beds. I'm staying here, too."

They went in and dropped their bags on two of the beds.

"Me, too," Nanao said.

Retsu nodded. "So am I."

The other ten looked to Yumichika.

"You're not staying in my room," Kuukaku told him.

He blinked quickly. "Uh, no...no. I'm going down there." He pointed down the hall, and then hurried down it with his bag.

"Me, too!" Yachiru skipped after him with her Hello Kitty backpack.

Rukia looked into the next pink bedroom. "I'm staying here."

"Me, too," Orihime said, tugging Tatsuki with her. "You, too, Tatsuki!"

They three disappeared into the second bedroom.

Yoruichi and Soifon looked into the mint green across the hall.

"Dibs," Yoruichi said as Soifon followed her in.

Kuukaku looked down the hall to where Yumichika and Yachiru had gone. "I guess I am, too," she said with a sigh, and went in.

Hiyori looked to Nemu beside her in the hall. "I'm not staying with them." She continued on down the corridor and peeked in the last room.

On one bed was Yachiru, jumping up and down, giggling. At another bed stood Yumichika, unpacking. Hiyori wrinkled her nose, and went into the yellow room. "I guess we're here, Nemu."

"Yes."

* * *

It took only moments for the contestants to find the roomy closets and lovely views out each room's terrace. They unpacked leisurely, with Orihime finishing first. She sprung down the stairs to take a closer look at the kitchen. It was well-equipped with a large refrigerator. She looked in to find it stocked with bottles of juice, spritzer, fresh produce, and a variety of sea food. She smiled, then looked to the filled fruit bowl on the counter that divided the kitchen and living area.

Then she spied the large envelope in the napkin clamp on the coffee table among the rattan and bean bag furniture in the living room.

She squealed with delight at being the first to spot it.

"Tyra mail!" she called.

The rumble of footsteps rushed down the staircase as the other contestants met her in the living room.

"Ooh! The first obstacle!" Yoruichi sang, crowding Orihime as the Living girl opened the envelope.

"Challenge," Retsu corrected.

Yoruichi gave a shrug.

"Read it!" Rangiku said.

Orihime ripped open the envelope. '"Enjoy your first night in Tokyo, but don't get too relaxed. This city moves fast, and so does this competition. Be ready at 9:00 a.m. and try not to fall flat."' She looked around at the other girls, smiling. "At the bottom it says to wear jeans and a tank top. Maybe we'll be in a commercial!"

"Maybe for cosmetics!" Kuukaku added.

"Maybe with male models," Retsu said slyly.

Yumichika frowned.

"Maybe in swimsuits!" Rangiku said.

Yumichika paled.

"Maybe in a promotional video!" Nanao said, warming to the idea.

"With KAT-TUN!" Orihime said. "Or Tackey & Tsubasa!"

Yumichika nodded fervently. "Or Morning Musume!"

They all frowned at him.

"Or Tsukishima Kirari!" Yachiru said brightly. "Or a pony!"

They all agreed a pony would be best.

* * *

After an eventful ride in the limousine the next morning during which Yachiru and Hiyori tried out every button on the doors and consoles, the contestants arrived at a large warehouse and found their way inside.

There stood Miss Jay in a pair of designer jeans and black t-shirt that read "Now With Phealing" on it, and relatively normal hair. He smiled at all the girls as they approached him amid the lights and cameras and crewmen.

"Hallo, ladies! Gorgeous as ever!" He made a sweeping gesture to the crew. "Don't mind them; they'll only be filming your every move. I'm Miss Jay, as you must remember, your runway coach. Now, today you're gonna learn how to walk like a _mo-del_. No one wants to see a Brooke Shields _gal-lomp-ing_ down the runway. Uh-uh. Not on my watch."

He made a delicate wave at the racks of shoes by the forty foot black carpet runner on the cement floor. "Now, pick out a comfy pair of heels, and let's see what we're working with."

The contestants made a bee-line for the shoes, and most came away with a pair that fit half-decently.

Miss Jay nodded as they pulled on the shoes, and then pointed to Soifon. "You're first, China doll."

Soifon gave him a dirty look, but wobbled over to the far end of the carpet and did a shaky walk down it in her slip pumps.

Miss Jay shook his head. "Lord, girl, you gotta bend them ankles!" He pointed to Momo. "You're up, honey."

Momo steadied on her high heeled cork sandals and did a meek side-step down the carpet.

"Uh-uh-uh, missy," Miss Jay said, shaking his head. "You look like you're cut off at the knee!"

"Sorry," Momo said, slinking to where Soifon stood.

Miss Jay pointed to Hiyori. "Take it down the carpet, dear."

Hiyori stumbled to the carpet end in her stilettos and proceeded to walk off it, twisting an ankle, and falling into Yumichika.

"Put me down!" she hollered at him.

He dropped her.

"Back up and on those heels!" Miss Jay said.

Hiyori ripped off a stiletto and threw it at Miss Jay.

He dodged it. "No more of that. Back in line, poppet." He nodded to Rangiku. "Let's see it, honey."

Rangiku walked slowly to the end of the runner in the purple leather pumps and then did a brisk walk down the carpet toward Miss Jay.

Until the end, where she caught a heel and fell to her knees at Miss Jay's feet.

He shrugged as she pulled herself to her feet. "Not bad until that last part, Sunshine." He pointed to Yoruichi. "Let's see your walk."

Yoruichi put one hand on her hip and did a sultry feline walk down the carpet, paused at the end, did her little turn, and walked back.

Miss Jay nodded, grinning. "Now _that's_ what I'm talking 'bout, ladies! That's what the catwalk is wanting to see!"

Yoruichi gave him a big smile.

Miss Jay waved at Rukia. "You're up."

Rukia clomped down the carpet in her high-heeled saddle shoes.

"No, no, no. You've got no hips, honey, so put some shake into your step." Miss Jay waved at the runner. "Again."

Again and again. No change.

Miss Jay sighed. "You're done."

Rukia sulked as she joined the line of contestants.

Miss Jay pointed at Nemu. "Let's see it, precious."

Nemu went to the end of the carpet and did a spot-on perfect walk in her six inch heels, then waited for further instructions.

Miss Jay squealed. "Yes! Now let's see your turn, hon."

Nemu turned.

"Exactly. Just like her, girls," he told the other contestants excitedly.

The contestants groaned.

When they'd all finished, most stood around grumbling about sore feet and twisted ankles. Miss Jay looks out over them, nodding, looking from Yoruichi to Nemu.

"Okay, ladies, a little shaky on the walks. Remember to keep your body fluid, put a snap in your step, and use those hips!" He nodded to Nemu. "The best walk goes to Nemu!"

A few groans, a few cheers from the contestants. Nemu blinked, then did a polite smile.

"As the winner you'll have a special prize at the photo shoot this afternoon. So, go back to the house and rest up!"

* * *

None of the contestants cared much about the photo shoot that afternoon -- not when their feet were burning and their ankles cracking in spots they normally wouldn't.

But when the limousine arrived later, they all piled in.

The fourteen contestants stood in a large back lot in the rear of a studio building where make-up dressing tables and hair stations were set up to one side, swarming with make-up and hair artists.

Before them were the camera crew, lights, and racks of clothing. Momo looked at the wardrobes and giggled, clutching Orihime's arm.

"We're going to dress-up!"

Yachiru's eyes widened. "I want to be a cowgirl!"

Retsu patted the girl's head. "You just might be."

Yumichika frowned, straightening his feather.

Jay Manuel made his way through the racks wearing black jeans and a navy t-shirt and gave the contestants a big wave and two snaps.

"Hello, ladies! You remember me, Jay Manuel, your photo shoot director," he said with a smile. "I see you all survived the runway teach this morning. Our winner of that was Nemu," he gestured to her, "and that means she gets first pick of styles for the Lolita photo shoot!"

Orihime squealed in delight, clapping her hands. After an awkward moment, the rest of the contestants also squealed and gave a shout. Except for Tatsuki.

Jay put a hand on the nearest rack of puffy skirts and dresses. "Nemu, come over here and choose which Lolita style you want."

Nemu walked over to a rack and pulled off an outfit.

Jay nodded. "Very good. Nemu has chosen the Kuro Lolita style. Go on over there to hair and make-up and they'll get you fixed up with your accessories." He looked out over the rest of the contestants. "Okay. Momo is it?"

Momo smiled and nodded.

"Momo, you're Shiro Lolita." He pointed to a rack of white and cream outfits."

Momo sniffed, eyes filling with emotion. "_Shiro_?"

"Yes."

Momo ran to the rack and began looking through the clothing.

"Rangiku, you're Classic Lolita." Jay pointed to the rack of rococo print dresses. "Retsu, you're our Country Lolita. Don't forget your straw hat, honey."

Rangiku and Retsu headed for the racks.

"Yumichika."

Yumichika looked anxiously, half-dreading Jay's next words.

"You're Kodona." Jay smiled. "It's the most masculine of the styles, and we think you can pull that off best."

Yumichika grinned.

"Yoruichi, you're going to be our Aristocrat Lolita," Jay said, waving to another rack of long black dresses and jackets. "Rukia, you're the dramatic Gothic Lolita," he said in a heavily angsty tone. He pointed to a rack of sailor style dresses. "Soifon, you're Sailor Lolita."

Yumichika, Yoruichi, and Soifon began looking through the clothes on their designated racks.

"Orihime -- hey, you're Hime Lolita!" Jay called out.

Orihime squealed. "I am!" She made a mad dash for the rack of long white flowing gowns.

"Make sure you can walk with the length, honey," Jay said.

Orihime nodded, sorting through the satin dresses on the rack.

"Nanao, you're Wa Lolita," Jay said, pointing to a rack of colorfully printed kimono tops.

Nanao looked longingly at the rack, and then sifted through them until she found a pink style with a very familiar print. The other contestants exchanged knowing looks.

"I think she misses _someone_," Rangiku whispered to Kuukaku. Kuukaku nodded.

Nanao held the kimono top close and joined the other contestants.

Jay looked out over the rest of them. "Yachiru, you're Sweet Lolita --"

"Sweet!" the girl cried, running to the rack of pink dresses.

"Kuukaku," Jay's voice dropped to a more somber tone, "you're unique-ness makes you perfect for the Guro Lolita style." He gestured to a rack of miscellaneously styled outfits. "Tatsuki, you're Casual Lolita, and Hiyori, you're Punk Lolita." He looked around at them all. "Any questions? Now, get on over to hair and make-up and show me your Lolita!"

* * *

The first contestant before the camera was Kuukaku. Behind her were a fence and a white screen. She stood with her hand on her hip in the black print jumper top over the ruffled black blouse, looking at Jay.

He grinned at her as the photographer gave the lighting crew directions. "Perfect Guro Lolita, Kuukaku."

Kuukaku looked down at her dress. "What is Guro Lolita?"

"Uh, well..." Jay tried to smile. "It's the Lolita style that wears fake injuries, like a sling or a patch over an eye."

She frowned at him. "Don't I need a patch or a sling then?"

"Uh..."

"Don't I?"

"Well..."

"We're ready when you are," said the camera man to Jay.

"Oh, good." Jay turned to Kuukaku and held up his hands, fingers splayed. "Don't worry about the background. We'll add it later."

"What should I do?"

"Just give us a smile."

Kuukaku grinned maniacally.

"Okay, less smile. More demure."

Kuukaku grinned again, with less force.

"Okay..."

* * *

In hair and make-up Rukia was staring at herself in the mirror, smiling back at the image in the black and white puff-sleeved top and bell-shaped skirt. The make-up man behind her touched the black bow in her hair and smiled.

"Perfect Gothic, Rukia. Just a bit more around the eyes for that smoky look." He touched up her eyes with eye shadow and then took a lipstick to give her ultra red lips. "Drop dead gorgeous!"

She smiled.

Beside her in another mirror Orihime was adjusting the mini crown perched on her auburn hair. The long white satin dress of ruffles, ribbons, and lace flowed around her as she fastened a three strand choker of white pearls at her throat.

"Can you walk in that, Orihime?" Rukia asked, testily making a pucker at her reflection with her reddened lips.

Orihime held her breath while she smoothed the dress along her sides. "I hope so."

The Living girl glanced over to where Soifon was pulling on her black and white striped socks that nearly reached the black pleated skirt of her sailor outfit. Orihime couldn't help but giggle.

"The lost Sailor Scout," she whispered to Rukia.

Rukia lowered her voice. "Don't let Soifon hear that."

Orihime looked to where Tatsuki was having her make-up done at another dressing station. Tatsuki scowled at the make-up artist trying to apply eye shadow to her second eye.

Orihime frowned. "Uh-oh..."

Tatsuki ripped the black bow out of her hair. "I don't do bows!"

The movement resulted in a black swipe below Tatsuki's eye.

The make-up man recoiled. "You must hold still!"

Tatsuki climbed out of the chair. "I'm done!"

* * *

After the photo shoot, the limousine took the contestants back to the house, and they waited for the panel. Kuukaku and Yoruichi both headed for separate bean bags in the living room and slumped into them, sighing loudly.

Soifon sat crossed legged on a cushion near Yoruichi, and Yachiru bounded upstairs to find her stash of candy.

"Well, that seemed to go okay," Restu said easily, flipping her loose hair over her shoulder.

_"Well?"_ Hiyori snapped. "I've never been so ugly in all my life!"

Rangiku sat on one of the two rattan sofas and drew up her legs to the side. "It would have helped if you hadn't squatted all monkey-like every time Jay said _give me something different_."

Hiyori stuck her tongue out at the tall strawberry blonde woman.

Rangiku shook her head and looked to Nanao, who wore a dreamy expression as she sagged into a chair. "You looked rather at home in that haori, Nanao."

Nanao remained silent, a smile about her lips.

"Nanao," Rangiku said sharply, smiling as Nanao looked to her quickly.

"It wasn't a haori," Nanao said lowly.

"It looked comfortable," Retsu said, smiling.

"Oh, it was..."

Orihime returned from raiding the refrigerator with her arms full of soda cans and tossed one to everyone. "I thought it was fun."

"Oh, it was exciting! Everyone was so pretty!" Yumichika said, grinning.

"At least they didn't put you in a dress," Rukia said, waiting for her soda to stop fizzing before she finished opening it.

"He would have looked good in a dress," Yachiru said as she skipped into the room and dropped onto a bean bag with a sack of candy. She smiled at Yumichika. He gave her a weak smile.

Orihime frowned at her soda. "Anyone want a straw?"

She went into the kitchen before anyone answered, and then suddenly gasped as she looked to the plant stand beneath the living room mirror. She lunged for the large envelope in the holder.

"Tyra mail!"

The other girls jumped up and rushed Orihime, pinning her to the wall as Yoruichi snatched the envelope from her. She tore it open and read the note.

"'Get ready for your first judging. Fourteen girls remain, but only thirteen will go on to compete for the title of The Next Top Model. One of you will be eliminated. Love, Tyra.'"

Two hours later the fourteen contestants stood before Tyra and the other judges in the judging room, awaiting the results of their hard work that day, all grinning. Except for Tatsuki and Hiyori.

Tyra stood before the table, draped in gold lamé evening dress that revealed both her shoulders, and quite a bit of cleavage, belted at her small waist with a black sash. She smiled grandly over them.

"Welcome, ladies. This is panel, where we'll be judging your photos. But I won't be judging alone, of course," she said, her smile fading into a slightly more realistic one. She gestured behind her, where four others were seated at a long table. "The first of our brilliant judges is Nigel Barker, noted fashion photographer." She was indicating a clean-cut man in a sharp suit, who flashed a smile at the contestants. "Then, to my right, we have here the lovely Miss Jay, who actually judged your runway walk earlier today."

Miss Jay batted his eyes several times in quick succession, then tapped the silver tiara that sat upon his head, which was decorated with fourteen rhinestones.

"And next, we have the last of our regular judges, Ishida U -- " Tyra paused, frowning a bit. "Ishida Uru...Uruyu. Uryuu." She pasted on a smile, regaining her composure instantly. "Mr. Ishida happens to be a very hip up-and-coming designer, and can be credited with the 'mantle craze' that's been sweeping Tokyo."

Uryuu opened his mouth to speak, sitting forward in his seat a little, but Tyra continued on.

"I thought I was auditioning for _Project Runway_," he said quietly, out of the corner of his mouth.

"And," Tyra continued, her tone raising another notch, "last but not least, this week's guest judge, Chad." She gestured to the stoic half-Mexican who sat to Nigel's left.

Chad nodded slightly. "..."

"And, before we get started, let me tell you about the prizes," Tyra said rather animatedly, looking over all of the contestants. "First is a contract with Up Front Agency, a very well-known Japanese agency known for producing some of the best idols in Asia. Then, there's a two-page spread in BLT magazine, a multi-million yen contract with Revlon cosmetics, and finally, a plain ol' bag of cash." She smiled broadly again. "Just over twelve million yen. That's about $100,000, U.S.," she added, glancing back at Nigel and Miss Jay. Her attention turned to the contestants again. "Today you had your first real photo shoot," she said softly. "You got a taste of what it's like to go before the cameras and take direction. We're going to look at your best photos now, and see who stays, and who goes home."

The contestants look nervously to each other.

"Soifon," Tyra said as she skirted the table and settled into her seat, screwing up the pronunciation a bit, "you're up first."

Soifon hesitated a moment, then made her way down the carpeted runner.

"You all had a meeting with Miss Jay this morning," Tyra said, smiling as she glanced at said he-she. "Well? How'd Soifon do?"

Miss Jay straightened from his slumped position, looking at Soifon. "Girl, she was shakin' like a leaf. All over that runway." He looked to Tyra. "Nothin' a little love won't fix, though."

Tyra laughed slightly, then turned to Soifon again. "And this week, the theme of your first photo shoot was the many styles of the extremely unique Japanese fashion of what is called Lolita," she said, a bit slowly, but articulately. "So, what _style_ of Lolita did you have?"

Soifon's frown remained. "Sailor Lolita."

"All right." Tyra beamed. "Let's see your best shot."

All heads turned to the blank-screen that was positioned on the wall to Tyra's right. After a moment of tense anticipation, a photograph flicked onto the screen.

"Ooh. Great intensity," Tyra said, focusing on Soifon's sour expression in the picture. "But the pose could use a bit of work."

Nigel nodded in agreement. "You've certainly got the legs for it. Not many girls can pull off striped stockings."

Miss Jay sighed a little, slumping. "Legs or no legs, you've gotta pick a direction, girl. What is this? Your face is goin' that way, and your torso's goin' _that_ way, and your legs are -- well, they're there."

Soifon didn't seem impressed by the comments. Or fazed at all, actually.

Uryuu shifted in his seat. "Maybe if white was the main color of the outfit, and the navy blue was used as trim. . ."

Chad grunted in agreement.

"Okay. Thanks Soifon." Tyra smiled quickly and Soifon retreated back to her place beside Yoruichi. "Next up is Orihime."

Orihime bounded down the runner, and Uryuu adjusted his glasses as he sat straighter, glancing towards Tyra, where a brand-new, unopened box of Kleenex sat.

"All right, Orihime," Tyra said, looking eager. "What style of Lolita were you?"

With a big smile, Orihime practically squealed, "Hime Lolita!"

"And Miss Jay, how was her walk?"

He made a so-so gesture. "Nothing special." His brow rose. "Yet."

"Okay then. Let's see your best shot."

Orihime's photo appeared on the screen.

"Aw. How sweet." Tyra stared at the picture of Orihime looking into the distance.

"Nice body language," said Nigel.

"Yeah, it's a good pose," Tyra said, nodding, "but you're not really _connecting_ with the camera. You weren't facing it, so we can't really _connect_ with the emotion."

Orihime nodded.

"I think it's perfect." Uryuu reached for the Kleenex box.

Again, Chad nodded. "...Yeah."

"I agree with Tyra about the face," Miss Jay said, looking at the picture, "but you're workin' your curves."

Nigel nodded. "Yeah. You've created a nice silhouette."

Uryuu looked to the photographer, frowning.

"Very nice, Orihime," Tyra said. "Thank you. Next," she continued as Orihime returned to the row of contestants, "is Yumichika."

Yumichika eagerly approached the table, ignoring the look of curiosity Uryuu tossed him.

Tyra smiled widely. "Miss Jay said you have a strong walk, but could use a little more...well...sashay in your step. Think Captain Jack Sparrow. On shore."

The imagery did nothing for Yumichika, but he nodded anyway.

"What style of Lolita did you have, Yumichika?"

"Kodona."

Tyra nodded, looking to the screen. "Here's your strongest shot."

On the screen appeared Yumichika in black and white wide plaid trousers and Victorian styled suit coat and top hat striking a smart pose of confidence and worldliness.

Tyra shook her head. "Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm! You owned it! You exude a metro gent from head to toe, and never lose the masculinity of the Lolita style."

Yumichika beamed. "Thank you, Tyra."

Uryuu looked to Tyra. "You know he's a man, don't you?"

Tyra's voice dropped. "We call it transitioning, Mr. Ishida, and we welcome the opportunity to work with Yumichika."

"I see..."

"It's a very strong statement on the style, masculine without being too dandy," Nigel said with a shrug, "not butch, but not effeminate, either."

Miss Jay nodded and made a pout. "Vintage."

Slowly, Tyra went through the rest of the contestants' evaluations, raising the hopes of some and dashing the hopes of others, and when they were through, Uryuu looked exhausted. Not that he had been doing the raising or dashing.

"All right. Now comes the time for our deliberation," Tyra said with renewed energy that had wavered somewhere between the ninth and eleventh contestant's evaluation. "When you return, one of you will be eliminated."

The contestants left silently and Tyra spread each of their photographs over the judge's table.

"Let's get to work." She tapped Rangiku's photo, in which she was languidly leaning against a fence, matching rococo hat slightly askew as she stared at the viewer with a subtle come-hither look.

"She's in," Miss Jay said instantly.

Nigel nodded. "I agree."

Uryuu shrugged. "It's okay."

"Well _I_ think it's _gorgeous_," Tyra said, punctuating her point with fierce snap. She looked over to Chad, who, for the millionth time that evening, nodded in agreement. "Next is Ya -- Yachiru." Tyra grinned. "I like her name. Chiru. Cheery."

Nigel look nonplussed and instead focused on the photo handed to him of said little pink-haired girl. She was wearing a pink dress with white eyelet trim, the dress complete with an ice cream cone motif, and a white bow in her hair. "She's a cute girl. She's wearing a baby-doll dress. Actually, the dress is wearing _her_." He shrugged. "Enough said. It's not great; it's not awful."

"Isn't she too young to be in this competition?" Uryuu asked.

"We don't discriminate here," Tyra replied, solemnly.

"That girl is nothin' but a ball of energy," Miss Jay said knowingly, giving a nod for effect. "Her walk is worth zilch, but train her right and she could be the Energizer Bunny."

Tyra couldn't help but laugh a little at that, or maybe she could, and then indicated the next picture. "And here we have Tatsuki."

"Is it just me, or is her make-up a little... asymmetrical?" Nigel asked, squinting at the photo of Tatsuki in a black graphic T-Shirt and a knee-length, multi-tiered black and white skirt. Her pose made her look like she was about to attack the photographer. Or maybe Jay.

"I have a feeling it wasn't supposed to be that way," Miss Jay said, frowning at the photo.

"My problem is that she didn't _embrace_ the style." Tyra sighed, perhaps in disappointment. "She has such potential, but here, in the photograph, I just don't see it."

Miss Jay nodded. "You and me both."

"Here, we gave her this amazing hair and make-up and wardrobe, and she's not even trying," Tyra said, shaking her head a bit. She looked to her left, then to her right. "Honestly, I don't think she gives a crap about being a model."

Neither Uryuu nor Chad had the opportunity to voice their own opinion on the subject before they moved on to the next girl. Hiyori.

"She has one of the most dramatic styles, and she comes in here lookin' all busted and broken," Miss Jay mumbled, referring to Hiyori's orangish-pink tracksuit that she had worn to panel.

"She looks good in the photo," Nigel began, studying it, "but she's crouched down like a monkey."

"Yankee, is the term," Uryuu corrected quickly.

"And is it me, or does it look like she's growling?"

Tyra frowned slightly, then nodded. "Hissing, maybe." She grabbed another photo. "Now this one," she said, pointing at Rukia's picture, "is definitely a frontrunner."

"Her head seems a little disproportionate to, well, the rest of her," Nigel said. "But the expression is good."

"But I think she can use that to her advantage," Tyra said, a bit enthusiastically. "Every model has a quirk. Hers is just... more noticeable."

Miss Jay gave a nod. "She looks like a sad, lost puppy."

"I like this one," Nigel said, tugging the photo of Momo out from under Tyra's fingers.

Momo, in the photo, was dressed in all white, from the miniature derby hat to her pure-white platform Mary Jane shoes, and stood somewhat shyly with her hands clasped in front of her.

"A cross between servitude and naiveté," Uryuu mumbled, almost too quietly for anyone to hear.

"I love her innocence in this picture," Tyra said, tapping the photo with her fingernail.

"A little _too_ innocent," Miss Jay said with a sigh.

They then proceeded to go through the photos of Retsu, Yoruichi, Nanao, and Kuukaku, deciding that they were all of average quality, none of them good enough to be a top pick, nor bad enough to be in the bottom.

Tyra looked dramatically to each judge. "Have we made our decision?"

Everyone nodded.

* * *

A moment later the contestants were assembled before the judges table, looking with apprehension at the panel. Tyra stood in front of the table, looking out over them.

"Fourteen beautiful girls stand in front of me, but I only have thirteen photos in my hands. The girl whose name I do not call must immediately return to the townhouse, pack their belongings, and go home."

Nervous looks were exchanged between the contestants.

Tyra smiled. "Momo!"

Momo stepped forward, then meekly came down the carpet to stand before Tyra. Tyra pulled her photo from her stack.

"Congratulations. You're still in the running to become The Next Top Model."

Momo gave a gasp, grabbed the photo and waved it over her head, then held it to her chest and went to stand near the screen, smiling bubbly.

Tyra looked out over the contestants. "Rukia."

Rukia's violet eyes opened wide. "Me?"

Tyra nodded hastily as Rukia walked down the carpet. "Congratulations. You're still in the running to become The Next Top Model."

One by one the names were called.

Retsu. Yachiru. Rangiku. Yumichika. Orihime. Soifon. Nanao. Nemu. Yoruichi. Kuukaku.

Only Tatsuki and Hiyori remained.

"Tatsuki, and Hiyori," Tyra said breathily, "please step forward."

The two girls did as told, and Tyra paused. "The two of you stand before me for, well, similar reasons." She looked to Tatsuki. "The judges feel that you were given an opportunity to really shine with the style that you modeled, and while we weren't expecting perfection, we couldn't help but feel that you didn't even _try_."

Tatsuki didn't look affected by Tyra's comments. She may have even smiled a little.

"And Hiyori," Tyra began again. "Your style was another one that we were looking forward to seeing, and again, we were disappointed."

Hiyori couldn't help but frown at that.

"The pose was awkward, and we get the feeling that the attitude that you conveyed on set is rooted into your personality." Tyra paused. "We _know_ that both of you have the potential to change, but unfortunately, only one of you will have the chance to show us." She glanced down at the last photograph in her hand, then revealed it to the girls. A slight smile came to her lips. "Congratulations, Hiyori."

Hiyori shuffled forward to take the photo, and behind her, Tatsuki looked strangely relieved.

"I'm sorry, Tatsuki," Tyra said to her.

"This means I can leave now, right?"

"Well, yes --"

"Good." Tatsuki smiled and looked to Orihime in line with the other girls. "Good luck, Orihime! Go all the way!"

Orihime's eyes were wide with sadness. "Bye! I wish you could stay!"

"See ya!" Tatsuki exited quickly out of the room.

And then there were thirteen.


	4. Meanwhile II

Shunsui sat back in the couch and rested the jug of sake on his knee. "I say my sweet Nanao goes all the way. One month's salary says so."

"Ha!" Ganju cried from his seat against the wall. "Not with _my _sister there!"

"It isn't all about pulchritude," Kira said from the opposite side of the couch. "Momo might win it all."

Shunsui looked to him. "You putting your money on that?"

Kira nodded weakly. "A month's salary. I guess."

Captains and vice-captains alike had invaded Ninth Division, captain's quarters, the only place they could find with a clear view of the southern sky. That, and the fact that Hisagi had been strangely absent lately and could not kick them all out.

"_If_ he gets the TV hooked up," Ukitake mumbled, coughing a little. He and Kira, Renji, Shunsui, Marechiyo, Isane, and Ganju all looked to the small TV set where Kurotsuchi stood behind it with eight miles of coaxial cable and two splitters.

Kurotsuchi glared back at them, the owner's manual shredded into pieces and laying at his feet. He yanked a handful of cables out of the back of the TV, bending jacks. He waved the red, white, and yellow plug ends at them. "What's all this?!"

Kira looked guiltily to the rest of them. "I beat Hisagi's best score in Midnight Club II."

Shunsui sat straighter. "Hisagi has Midnight Club II?"

Kurotsuchi growled and tried to get the bowling ball-sized knot out of the cables.

"Can you do it?" Marechiyo asked.

"Of course I can do it!" Kurotsuchi snapped.

"He's just being particular," Isane said, leaning back on the couch beside Renji.

"Nemu does the grunt work," Kurotsuchi muttered, sorting through the cables until the knot tightened into hopelessly.

"We should have gotten a satellite dish," Marechiyo said, plunging a meaty hand into a bag of potato chips. He stuffed them into his greasy mouth, and offered the bag to Kira. "Want some?"

Kira scowled. "You just picked your nose with that hand and now you're eating with it?"

Marechiyo frowned in confusion.

Renji looked to Isane. "Why aren't you in the competition?"

She gave him a sharp look. "I could've made it, if I tried out. You know, it's not always about beauty!"

"I didn't say it was. I just --"

"There's inner beauty, too, you know!"

Renji nodded rapidly. "I know. I just --"

"It's not all cleavage and hair and make-up!" She repeatedly jabbed a finger painfully into his shoulder until he pulled away. "There's more!"

He couldn't help but look to her chest. "I know, but --"

"Argh!" She leaped to her feet and stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Renji looked around at the other shinigami, and Ganju. "What's wrong with her?"

Shunsui chuckled. "She _did_ try out."

* * *

**Authors' Note: Poll is up. Who's The Next Top Model?**


	5. Sailor Moon Photo Shoot

Soifon awoke early to Yoruichi standing in her bed, stepping carefully among her ankles as she wrestled the large frame from off the lavender wall.

Soifon frowned at the dark-skinned woman, who was already dressed in yellow Capri's and white blouse tied at her waist. She rose to one elbow. "What are you doing?"

Yoruichi mumbled at the three foot by four foot poster of Tyra's face made-up in abstractly designed purple and yellow eye shadow.

"If I have to look at Tyra Banks all day, I'm not going to have her stare at me all night, too."

She pulled the frame of the wall and hopped off the bed with it.

Soifon watched her collect the other three posters she'd already harvested from the walls and make out the door with them.

"Good," Kuukaku said from her bed across the room. She got out of bed and adjusted her night slip, which was nothing more than an overlarge red tank top, and fumbled through her garment bag.

Soifon looked down at her own sadly lacking chest. The gods were unfair.

* * *

By the time everyone assembled in the kitchen twenty minutes later Orihime had made breakfast. At the table Yachiru already had a large bowl of double marshmallow Fruity-Os in chocolate milk, and Hiyori was chasing slices of banana and kiwi around in her bowl of Raisin Bran Cereal. Rukia was peeling an orange over a napkin, Nanao was picking out chunks of prune from her peanut-butter smoothie, and Momo was cutting up wedges of watermelon. Retsu had gotten her breakfast -- just to be safe -- and Rangiku was trying to offer Nemu one of her four pieces of toast slathered in salsa, sardines, and sweet bean paste Orihime had made for her. Nemu politely refused.

"I remember how much you liked it last time," Orihime said, wearing a chef's hat she'd made out of paper towels and beaming at Rangiku, "when you and Captain Hitsugaya stayed at my house."

Rangiku managed a smile. "Thanks, That's ... sweet of you."

Soifon, Yoruichi, and Kuukaku entered the dining area, gave one look at the table, and collectively shook their heads.

"I'm getting my own breakfast," Soifon told Orihime as the Living girl started to speak.

"I think we all should," Yoruichi said.

Kuukaku made a face at the breakfasts as she sat down in a chair and slung her stump over the back of it, turning to see into the kitchen. "I'll pass."

At one table end Yumichika was looking at his scrambled eggs topped with chocolate chips and bacon bits. "I have another house rule," he said, rubbing his bloodshot eyes, making the feather bobble. "Anyone staying up all night and not sleeping must agree not to _stare_ at those who are sleeping." He looked to Nemu, who only blinked at him.

A round of '_okays'_ went up from the table.

Yachiru munched on her cereal, chocolate and fruity milk dripping from her chin. "You need to scrape your face, Yumichika."

He shook his head. "You mean shave."

The girl shrugged.

"Tyra mail!" Orihime sang out, this time bracing as the contestants rushed her at the hall table by the living room. They all crowded around her.

"'Hope you've had a good breakfast, because you're going to need some energy this morning. Be ready at eleven-thirty and try not to run around like a chicken with its head cut off.'"

Orihime looked up to them. "Hmm. That could mean so many things."

"Maybe we're going to dress up in chicken costumes," Momo said, frowning.

"I want to be a duck," Yachiru decided.

"It doesn't sound very model-like," Retsu said.

"Maybe they'll make us pose with Colonial Sanders," Rukia said. "I always wanted to meet him."

They all looked to her.

She smiled feebly. "He always looks so kind..."

* * *

At eleven-thirty the limousine pulled up to Tokyo's flea market capital and parked at a side street, where the thirteen contestants spilled out and met Tyra and her assistant at the market entrance.

Tyra stood grinning at them, wearing cork wedge sandals and a perky pink gauze dress with a plunging neckline. She put her hands on her hips, bracelets on her wrists rattling, and looked at them all as they gathered before her.

"Hiya!"

"Hi, Tyra!" they all greeted.

"Sometimes as a model you have to put together your own look out of what you have available. Today you're going to do just that with what you can find here." She gestured grandly to the acres of tables, stalls, and stands beyond her. "Hand-me-downs, seconds, toss-offs, and treasures. They're all here. It's up to you to make the best style out of them. You'll each get two thousand yen and fifteen minutes to complete your style. Meet back here in fifteen minutes. Now go!"

Tyra barely stayed on her feet as the shinigami and Orihime, Hiyori, and Kuukaku mobbed her and her assistant. They doled out yen, and then got out of the way.

Retsu and Nanao headed out to the stalls of vendors, while Yachiru dragged Yumichika to a table spread with feathery boas, strings of beads, and paisley shawls. On the other side of the market Rukia and Orihime were raiding a clothes line maze of second-hand clothing.

Rukia smiled and started grabbing items as Orihime took her time sorting through tank dresses nearby.

Rukia sighed. "Renji and I used to steal clothes off the laundry lines in Rukongai, but no one ever had stuff like this!"

Orihime looked to her in shock. "You _stole_ clothes?"

Rukia looked guilty, but then waved it off. "We had to wear _something_."

"Oh."

Rukia took a blue sequined flapper-style dress off the line and held it up for Orihime to see. "What do you think?"

Orihime nodded enthusiastically.

Fifteen minutes later the contestants stood before Tyra and her assistant, arrayed in a variety of bizarreness. Tyra looked them all over, nodding at several, and then clapped her hands.

"Okay, okay. Let's see how you did." her gaze drifted over them. "Yachiru, you're first, sweetie."

Yachiru stepped forward and held out the pleated skirt of her pleated black and white skull dress that was edged with pink ruffles, striking a pose in her neon green cowboy boots that were two sizes too large.

"Hmm, colorful and fun. Very good." Tyra nodded. "Okay. Ooh, Yoruichi, you've tried something daring. Let's see it."

Yoruichi stepped out of the line, minus her shirt, her torso covered with three dozen beaded necklaces above a leopard skin print skirt.

"Okaaay," Tyra said, nodding slowly. "Half _Death Becomes Her_, half Mr. T. Interesting." She looked farther down the line. "Let's see your style, Ran-Gi-Ku."

Rangiku stepped out of the line, angling one shapely hip in her cut-off jeans shorts as she rose to her full height, making her yellow double-bandanas tied into a halter strain under pressure. She smiled.

"Daisy Duke-ish. A little chic." Tyra lifted her chin and gave her a gangsta pout, nodding. "It works." She pointed to Yumichika. "Let's see what you've done."

Yumichika took a step out of line, nearly wrapped from head to toe in bright plumes of billowing, feathery boas. He blew a stray feather out of his face.

"What do you think?" Tyra asked her assistant. Before the slightly built Japanese woman could respond, Tyra continued: "We like it. Very soft, very flowing."

After each contestant had been assessed by Tyra, the super model looked them all over for another few moments. Finally, she pointed to Rukia with a smile.

"Love the matching blue," she said, indicating the Columbian blue flapper dress, and nearly matching, but too-big-for-her blue heels that Rukia was wearing. Beneath her dress, she wore black leggings, which matched the patent-leather clutch in her hands. "It's a complete look, too," Tyra added with a nod. "Nicely done, girl."

Rukia smiled and blushed a little, but said nothing.

"All right, it's time to announce the winner," Tyra said suddenly, clasping her hands together as she glanced down the line of them. Her assistant looked to her with anticipation. "The winner is," began Tyra, "Rukia!"

Rukia squealed in delight and jumped up and down a few moments before calming down long enough to let Tyra continue.

"You wanna know what your prize is?" She grinned broadly. "You get to take one item from three of the other girls. What they're wearing right now."

Rukia stopped jumping and looked at the other contestants, dread washing over her.

"What?!" Kuukaku, Yachiru, and Hiyori cried together.

"I picked out my stuff! It's mine!" Hiyori shouted, her triple layer of leis clutched in her hands.

Yoruichi crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, daring Rukia to take a necklace. Soifon and Kuukaku merely looked at Rukia, which was enough to dissuade her from picking their accessories.

Rukia's attention went to the safer choices. She looked at Hiyori's B'z t-shirt and Orihime's Kitchen Princess apron. "Uh, well ... I'll take Momo's Tokyo Giants cap ... and Hiyori' t-shirt, and ... Orihime's apron."

Orihime looked down at her pink and yellow checkered apron and sighed.

"You never know when you'll have to be able to throw an outfit together like this, so it's good that you all had practice today," Tyra said as the other girl's gave up their items, leaving Hiyori in her chartreuse track suit. "And you all did pretty well. I have to say, I'm surprised." She flashed a smile. "Well, I've got to go and tape a show now, so I'll see you guys at judging tomorrow."

* * *

They spent the rest of the day around the pool. Retsu, Yumichika, and Orihime all exhausted themselves blowing up inflatable pool toys for Yachiru. Yoruichi and Soifon played volleyball against Kuukaku and Rangiku in the pool, which proved awkward. Momo and Rukia practiced their runway walk on the long red carpet in the living room of the house as Nanao and Nemu coached, and Hiyori scoffed.

Yumichika watched the volleyball game -- Yoruichi in her black and gold bikini, Soifon in her lime green one-piece, Kuukaku in her red bikini, and Rangiku in a shiny pink bikini -- until he found it necessary to drag his lounge chair away from the pool and take a nap...

* * *

"Tyra mail!" Orihime's voice rang out against the hall walls the next morning. She was immediately assailed by Rukia, Momo, Hiyori, and Yachiru, with the rest of the contestants tickling out of the rooms more slowly.

"Ooh, open it!" Momo said, trying to stay out of Yachiru's way as the girl bounced like a rubber ball beside her.

Yoruichi snatched the letter from Orihime proved too slow at opening it.

Her gold eyes moved across the fanciful writing. "'You've shown me that you can put an outfit together, but can you rock a uniform? You'd better hope so, or the bad guy just might win.'" She frowned and looked to the other girls. "Hollows?"

"No," Retsu said. "It can't be anything like that."

Yumichika yawned, scratching himself. "What time?"

Yoruichi glanced at the bottom of the letter. "Eight o'clock."

"Eeek!" Orihime gasped, pointing to the wall clock. "We have twenty minutes!"

Thirteen contestants made a mad scramble for their bedrooms.

* * *

At eight-fifteen Jay Manuel, dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt with gray skulls on it, stood grinning at the contestants in a park near a lower school where the cameras, lights, curtained dressing area, and hair and make-up tables were set up in the shade of trees.

"Hallo, girls!"

"Hey, Jay!" they returned.

"I hope you all rested up last night because today we're going to see how super you really are. Today you're going to bring to life one of Japan's most well-known heroines of the anime and manga world." He gestured to his right where a larger than life banner of all the Sailor Scouts suddenly unrolled from a cherry tree.

Orihime let out a shrill sound and clapped. Rukia's eyes widened, and she joined Orihime's gleeful squeal. The rest of the contestants looked with confusion at the colorful banner, and then followed Orihime and Rukia's example and squealed, uncertain.

"Not _them_!" Hiyori huffed. "They're all over the place!"

Jay smiled at them. "Sailor Moon is one of the most recognized female superheroes around the world. Today you'll each be assigned one of the Scouts to emulate. We want you to embody the superhero qualities, and bring that to the photo shoot. Everybody ready?"

A chorus of "Yes!" went up from the contestants.

"All right then." Jay looked to his assistant, a Japanese man in his mid-twenties with glasses, who handed him a notepad. "First off, Nemu, you're Sailor Jupiter. Momo, you're Saturn. Rukia, you're Neptune. Yoruichi, you're Pluto..."

Most of the shinigami were looking at the banner.

"I don't know who's who," Retsu whispered to Nanao.

"Maybe it doesn't matter," Nanao said.

"... Nanao, you're Mercury. Soifon, you're Mars," Jay continued, reading from the notepad, "Hiyori, you're Uranus. Orihime, you're Sailor Moon --"

"Yes! Yes!" Orihime cried, jumping three feet off the ground. "Yes, yes, yes!"

Jay raised an eyebrow at her and continued. "Rangiku, you're Venus. Yachiru, you're Mini Moon." He grinned at her. "That works for you, girlie."

Yachiru looked to the banner and spotted the smallest Scout. She giggled, and ran to the banner and hugged the portion bearing the pink Scout until she nearly ripped the banner down.

"Yumichiki, you're Seiya," Jay was saying, "Retsu, you're Yaten, and Kuukaku, you're Taiki." He clapped twice, smiling wider. "Now, go find your Scout uniforms, and head to hair and make-up!"

The contestants lunged for the three racks of Sailor Scout costumes by the changing curtains, and then realized they didn't know which ones to pick.

Except for Orihime, Rukia, and Yachiru.

"We just pick any one of these?" Rangiku asked, pushing uniforms around on the rack.

"Oh, no," Orihime said. "We all have special ones. By color."

"Mine!" Yachiru ripped the pink Mini Moon uniform off the rack and dashed to the dressing area.

Orihime found an orange uniform and gave it to Rangiku. "This is Sailor Venus."

Rangiku didn't look too excited about it. "Orange? My color is _orange_?"

"You're Sailor Venus, goddess of love," Orihime added.

"Oh...okay." Rangiku smiled and took the uniform to the dressing area.

Rukia grabbed her Sailor Neptune costume, wrinkling her face. "I'm not dying my hair green."

Orihime handed out the rest of the costumes. "Nanao, you're red; Yoruichi, you're Pluto; Yumichika, you're ... black."

He looked at the skimpy shorts and halter set. "This is it?"

Orihime nodded. "Yup."

Retsu and Kuukaku looked to their similar costumes.

"This is all there is?" Retsu asked dismally.

Orihime held up a hanger with long black gloves. "And these."

Retsu took the gloves, frowning.

* * *

Ten minutes later, the contestants were in their Scout uniforms, most with their hair in ponytails, tiaras and headbands in place, boots and shoes on their feet.

Yumichika was in what little there was of his Scout costume, looking embarrassed at the black shorts, empty halter top, and long black gloves past his elbows. Yachiru was the happiest, bopping around in a pink Scout uniform that seemed to be tailor made for her, twirling, her skirts fanned out.

"I still think I should be Sailor Mars," Hiyori grumbled, looking to Soifon.

Soifon ignored her, and glanced to Orihime. "_Now_ who's the lost Sailor Scout?"

Orihime dropped part of her smile as she fingered her double ponytails, taking a step away from the shorter woman.

"Yachiru, you're up first!" Jay called, waving the little girl over to the jungle gym, which was surrounded with stage lights.

Yachiru bounded over there, some pep in her step, and Jay stopped her before she climbed onto the jungle gym.

"Not _on_ it, sweetie, in front of it," he said, gesturing. "Now, remember, you're supposed to be fighting the bad guy, so remember to make the pose believable, but still keep the face fierce."

"Okay." Yachiru nodded offhandedly.

"So, you're the Mini Moon Scout," he continued after a moment, "and you're fighting the bad guy. What do you do?"

Yachiru considered it for a moment, then replied, "Call Kenny."

"Call wh -- Okay then," Jay sad quickly, then nodded. "Do what Mini Moon does. All right?"

The pink-haired girl frowned slightly, playing with the little pink wand in her hands. "But I don't know what she does."

"Just make something up."

"How about this?" Yachiru struck a pose, holding the wand as if it were a wakizashi.

"That works," Jay said, looking at the image on the camera as the photographer looked to him for the okay. "Just don't forget about the face."

Yachiru gave him a fierce face, brandishing the wand.

"Okay, very good."

Twenty frames later, Yachiru was finished, and Jay was beaming at her progress.

"That was great. You're done here, Yachiru." Jay waved over Rangiku. "Sailor Venus! You're next."

Rangiku sidled up to him, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Sailor Venus!"

"Good. Now your enemy is about to descend on the playground and you're going to defend the kiddies here. I want to see protector. Got it?" Jay asked.

"Where's my sword?"

Jay frowned. "Sailor Scouts don't use swords, honey."

Rangiku frowned. "They don't? What do they use?"

"Just, just..." Jay looked to his assistant, who shook his head. "Just look determined, Rangiku. Throw your arms up like you're warding off the enemy, but sell it like a model."

Rangiku sighed. "Okay."

Jay nodded to the photographer. "Whenever you're ready." He looked to Rangiku. "Let's see defender!"

Rangiku put her hands on her hips, and then lurched toward the camera crew with her arm outstretched, finger pointing. "I command you to stop!"

The crew took a step back in unison. Jay nodded. "Good, good. Now with a softer face."

Rangiku smiled dreamily and tilted her head, making a peace sign, winking.

"Oh, that works, too, but it's a little static. More energy."

After Rangiku, Momo took her turn as Saturn, turning in half a dozen perfect shots, followed by Nemu, Rukia, and Retsu.

When Kuukaku stepped in front of the camera, Jay frowned, then nodded. "Okay, Kuukaku, let's see Taiki's signature pose."

Kuukaku threw her arm up in a thrusting motion before her, twisting her body in a perfect imitation of the Sailor Star -- with a leering smile.

"Ahhh, great body language, Kuukaku," Jay said, scratching the back of his head, "but too much smile. Let's see it again without the smile. Simply fierce, but not so much venom."

Kuukaku repeated the movements, including the half-rabid smile. After fifteen shots of the same brutal smile, Jay nodded, and told her she was finished. He looked at the next name on the notepad. "Orihime!"

Orihime skipped up to him, ponytails flopping. "Hi, Jay!"

"Okay, Orihime, let's see your Sailor Moon, defender of the playground. Remember to keep it model, Orihime," he added.

Orihime stood before the jungle gym and struck a Sailor Moon salute.

"Ooh, good, but we need to see defender, Orihime. Yell _Moon, Prism, Power!_"

Orihime looked aghast and flung her arms over her chest, turning her knees away from him. "Ew!"

Jay's assistant said something lowly to him, and Jay grinned. "Oops," he said to Orihime. "Wrong phrase. Okay, let's see fierce defender!"

Orihime waved her wand in a big circle and struck several more poses as the cameras flashed.

"Take that, you Nega-slime!" she pointed to the tree. "You're dusted," she yelled at the slide, flinging her tiara at it. "I will punish you!" She held out her hands in front of her. "I reject!" She dropped her hands and looked sheepishly at Jay. "Oops. Sorry. Habit."

Jay nodded. "Okay, okay. We've got enough."

An hour later the contestants had finished shooting, and the crew was packing up, only to be mobbed by a pack of school children on their way home after class who wanted autographs from the Sailor Scouts. The contestants signed books and papers for half an hour, during which Retsu, Kuukaku, and Yumichika felt left out, as not many children wanted the Sailor Stars signatures.

* * *

At the house, the contestants raided the refrigerator and then flopped on the assorted furniture in the living room. Yachiru dashed upstairs and returned a moment later with a bag of candy and plopped down at Nemu's feet near the couch.

"That was fun!" she said, digging a small hand into the bag, bringing out a fistful of wrapped candies.

"Fun?" Yoruichi stretched her arms over her head as she slouched down in one of the bean bags. "We didn't even get swords!"

Orihime appeared from the kitchen with two bags of chips, a box of animal crackers, a bowl of grapes, a big package of Gummy bears, and a tube of jerky. "Sailor Scouts don't use swords." She settled next to Rukia at the coffee table.

Yumichika was between Retsu and Kuukaku on the other couch. "Why didn't anyone want our autographs?" he moped. "We were just as pretty as everyone else."

Orihime tossed a bag of chips to him. "The Sailor Stars aren't as popular."

"Why not?" he wondered, ripping open the bag. Kuukaku immediately stuffed her hand in the bag and crunched a wad of chips, dribbling flakes across him as she withdrew the snacks.

"Maybe because you look like a bunch of bondage maidens," Soifon said, raising an eyebrow.

They all nodded.

"I liked your boots," Nemu said quietly from a chair. All eyes looked to her, every mouth pausing chewing.

Nemu blinked twice. "I did."

Retsu sighed. "We were a little scary-looking."

Suddenly Orihime leaped to her feet, tipping the bowl, sending grapes rolling across the floor. "We forgot to check!"

She went to the stand beneath the mirror and snatched up the oversized envelope. "We've got Tyra mail!" She rejoined the other contestants and dropped to her knees beside Rukia, only to be crowded by Yachiru, Momo, Nanao, and Yoruichi.

"'Tomorrow you will meet with the judges," Orihime read from the card. "Thirteen girls remain, but only twelve will go on to compete for the title of The Next Top Model. One of you will be eliminated. Love, Tyra.'"

They all looked around at each other.

"Good luck to everyone," Retsu said with a smile.

* * *

The contestants congregated in the judging room, where Tyra stood in front of the table, just as last time, smiling at everyone as they filed in.

"Welcome, welcome," she said, smile broadening for a moment. "This is your second judging. Here, as usual, to judge you is noted fashion photographer Nigel Barker," she said, indicating him.

He smiled. "Hi girls."

"Next we have Miss Jay, runway coach extraordinaire."

Miss Jay smiled a little and then nodded, touching the thirteen points of his tiara.

"Mr. Ishida, an avant-garde fashion designer known here in Tokyo," Tyra continued, gesturing to Uryuu. "And finally, this week's guest judge," she said, pointing to the person at the far left end of the table. "Mr. Itchy-go Kurosa-ke." She smiled, and then continued before Ichigo had a chance to say or do anything. "Before we get under way, let me tell you about the prizes that the winner of The Next Top Model is going to receive. First up is a contract with Up Front Agency, the same agency that handles notable pop idol groups, such as Morning Musume, C-ute, and Berryz Koubou. Next is a two-page spread in BLT magazine, a magazine read by millions of girls every day, a multi-million yen contract with Revlon cosmetics, and last but certainly not least, a little over twelve million yen.

"Well, let's look at your best shots." Tyra took her seat behind the table. "First up is... Hiyori."

Hiyori stepped forward, then stood in front of the judges, hands dug deep into the back pockets of her tracksuit pants.

"For yesterday's challenge, _I_ was the judge," Tyra said, grinning as she looked to Miss Jay and Nigel. "The challenge was to put together a cohesive outfit, with limited cash and resources." She looked to Hiyori. "You did pretty well, but not spectacular." She made a so-so gesture.

"Girl, what is up with that tracksuit? Miss Jay asked, rolling his eyes. "It's not so much that it's out of style, as that it was never _in_ style."

Hiyori crossed her arms over her chest and stood with her legs spread wider apart, staring back at Miss Jay.

Tyra smiled quickly and sat forward. "Let's see your best shot."

A photograph of Hiyori flicked onto the screen.

"So, you were Sailor Uranus." Tyra looked from the screen to the pig-tailed girl. "How did you feel about playing such a gender-ambiguous role?"

"I hate Sailor Moon," replied Hiyori, sharply, "And I'm not a guy."

"Good intensity," Nigel said with a nod as he looked at the picture. "The pose is a little awkward, but you've certainly hit the mark with your face."

Hiyori frowned a little.

"Thanks, Hiyori," Tyra said. "Next up is Momo."

Momo stepped lightly down the carpet and stood before the judges, smiling.

Tyra smiled back. "And which Sailor Scout were you, Momo?"

"Sailor Saturn."

"Mmm, now let's see your best shot, Momo." On the screen there appeared a picture of Momo in all her Sailor regalia, holding a glaive, looking understatedly lethal. "Very good. Strong yet seductive."

"I see quiet strength," Nigel said.

"I see a girl with a big stick," Miss Jay said, nonplussed.

"I see a pole-vaulter," Ichigo said, scowling over the photo.

"I think she pulls it off well," Ishida said thoughtfully.

"Very good, Momo," Tyra said, smiling at the small girl. "Next up we have Nemu."

Right on cue, Nemu stepped forward, her face void of expression.

Tyra sat up straighter in her chair. "All right, Nemu. Which Sailor Scout did you portray?"

"Sailor Jupiter," Nemu replied evenly.

"All righty then. Let's see your best shot."

All eyes turned to the screen when Nemu's photograph popped on.

"I've got to say, I'm liking the pose," Nigel said, sitting back a little."

"Girl, you're lookin' _fierce_," Miss Jay said with a nod, pointing at the photo with his pen. "Now if only you could put that attitude into your walk -- _then_ you'd really have something there."

Nemu nodded quickly. "Thank you."

"Just one other thing, Nemu," Tyra said, looking away from the picture. "I don't feel like we're getting much of your personality here." She looked to the others, who nodded in agreement, except for Uryuu and Ichigo, who both rolled their eyes. "Try to be a little more yourself next panel, okay?"

Nemu nodded again. "I will do that."

"All right. Thanks." Tyra smiled again as Nemu's photo disappeared from the screen. "Up next: Yumichika."

Ichigo snickered as Yumichika approached the judges' table. "What the hell's he doing here?"

"Mr. Kurosaki, we're here to judge Yumichika's ability to model," Tyra said in somber tones, "not her choice of gender."

"Ha! _Her choice_ of gender?" Ichigo smiled --- _smiled?_ -- and laughed. "Wait 'til _her_ captain gets word of that!"

Tyra shook her head dismissively and looked to Yumichika, who was glaring at Ichigo. "Yumichika, which Sailor Scout did you represent?"

Yumichika twisted his face in disappointment. "I was Seiya, and I don't think it's a very well-liked Scout."

Tyra pursed her lips. "It's your job as a top model to sell the product -- even if the product is not well-liked -- and this time the product was Seiya. Let's see your best shot."

On the screen appeared Yumichika as Seiya, looking more butch-drag queen than ambiguous Scout.

"He's a hermaphrodite!" Ichigo howled.

Yumichika frowned at him.

Tyra shook her head at the photo. "You didn't quite capture the indefinite characteristics of the Scout."

"He looks angry, to me," Nigel said, shaking his head.

"That's one pouty-pumpkin, sista," Miss Jay said, clucking her tongue.

Tyra sighed, looking to Yumichika. "Next up we have Soifon."

From there it went until all the contestants had been picked apart, and Tyra dismissed them for the judges' deliberation.

Ichigo pulled the photo of Kuukaku from Nigel as soon as the photographer got it. "Hell, what an evil smile! She should go home."

Tyra frowned at him. "Are you sure you're not judging her too hastily, Mr. Kurosaki?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. She's a mean one."

"It's not the arm, is it?"

Ichigo glared at Tyra. "She has an arm; she just didn't bring it with her!"

"It's because she shot him out of a cannon," Uryuu said with a chuckle.

Everyone looked to Ichigo, who was blushing at their confusion.

"Hmm, so _that's_ what they're calling it now," Miss Jay said with a smarmy smile.

"What about Yachiru?" Tyra asked, indicating the picture.

"Looks good to me," Miss Jay said.

"Not very threatening," Uryuu added.

"She looks like she's about to whack someone with her wand," Nigel said, sighing, "but yeah, it's a good picture. Looks real."

"And Orihime?" Tyra slid the picture of said girl towards Miss Jay, who shook his head a little.

"I'm not seein' model."

Nigel shook his head as well. "Me neither. She has good energy, but it really doesn't look like a model."

"It looks exactly like something Sailor Moon would do," Uryuu mumbled, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he inspected the photo closer.

"But she lost her _model_," Tyra replied.

"Nah, I think she hit the nail on the head," Ichigo said, snatching the photograph away from her. "She looks exactly like her."

"This is a modeling competition, dearie, not a look-alike contest," Miss Jay said testily, leaning across Tyra.

"Well," Tyra paused, looking to all of the judges. "I think we've reached a decision. Let's call the girls back in."

A moment later the contestants stood before the judges table again, looking hopefully at the panel. Tyra stood in front of the table, gazing out over them.

"Thirteen beautiful girls stand in before me, but I only have twelve photos in my hands. The girl whose name I do not call must immediately return to the house, pack their belongings, and go home."

The contestants all exchanged nervous looks.

Tyra smiled. "Yachiru!"

Yachiru blinked a few times, then scampered down the carpet to stand before Tyra. Tyra pulled her photo from her stack.

"Congratulations. You're still in the running to become The Next Top Model."

"Wee!" the girl cried as she hopped back into line with the other contestants.

Tyra smiled. "Orihime!"

The Living girl jumped up and down and hugged Rukia, nearly lifting her off her feet before skipping down the carpet to meet Tyra.

"Congratulations." Tyra handed her the photo of Sailor Moon. "You're sill in the running to become The Next Top Model."

Orihime returned to the line, smiling.

Tyra looked to the contestants. "Rangiku!"

"She could save me any-day," Miss Jay said to Uryuu under his breath at the table.

Uryuu's eyes were still on Orihime.

And so the names were called.

Nanao. Soifon. Nemu. Momo. Hiyori. Rukia. Yoruichi. Retsu.

Finally only two were left.

Tyra looked to them.

"Yumichika, Kuukaku, will you both please step forward."

Tyra looked to each of them for several long moments. Kuukaku narrowed her eyes at the model. Yumichika looked bewildered.

"Two beautiful girls stand before me, but I only have one picture in my hand," she said breathily, pausing.

Yumichika shifted. "I'm not --"

"I will only call one name," she continued on, "and the girl whose name I do not call must return to the townhouse, pack up their things, and go home.

"Yumichika, Kuukaku," she said, looking to them each in turn, "neither of you were able to embody the character that you were assigned. Kuukaku, you've shown an inflexibility in both photo shoots that you've had so far, and it makes us judges wonder if you can do other expressions, or other poses." She looked to Yumichika. "Last week, your first week out, you really impressed us. But this week, your interpretation of Seiya fell flat. We feel that you didn't bring enough character to the shoot. We see potential in both of you, but one shows more potential, and it's a potential we think that can really shine." Tyra blinked slowly, then turned over the photo in her hands. "Yumichika."

Yumichika grinned, sniffing with emotion.

Kuukaku had emotions, too. "I'm _out_?" she yelled, looking at Tyra with disbelief. "_I'm_ out?"

"Yes; you can now --"

"Yeah, yeah, I know what to do." Kuukaku sent a piercing look to the judges' table, pinpointing Ichigo. "Next time you need help, buddy, I'll remember this!"

Ichigo glowered at her form as it stalked out of the room. "It wasn't all me!"

And then there were twelve.

* * *

**Authors' Note: _This was supposed to be a Goddess Photo Shoot Elimination, but ANTM just opened their twelfth season with one, so we changed it. :_(**

**Next Photo Shoot: Animal Instincts **

**_To anyone doing fanart, we'd love to see it! :)_**

**_To Corvus corax, Yoruichi was Aristocrat Lolita._**

**_Thanks for reading! Poll is up for The Next Top Model!_**


	6. Meanwhile III

Jay Manuel grinned at Kensei, Hisagi, and Ikkaku in the alley behind the soundstage. He pointed to each in turn.

"Sharp, very sharp, guys. Understatedly tough," he said to Hisagi. "Love the tattoo. Bald but proud," his finger lingered at Ikkaku before moving to Kensei. "Trendy but urban. Think about it," he said with a bright smile for them. "I'll get back to you. Ciao!"

Jay stepped back into the stage door behind him and closed it.

Kensei, Hisagi, and Ikkaku all looked at each other.

Hisagi grinned. "Yes, please!"

"Are you nuts?" Ikkaku cried. "No way!"

Kensei rubbed the back of his head, shrugging slowly. "I don't know. It might be fun."

"No way, no way, no way," Ikkaku muttered.

Hisagi and Kensei exchanged looks.

"Well, I want to," Kensei said. "Kinda." He cleared his throat. "You think Mashiro is still in?"

Hisagi shrugged. "The only episodes that have aired are the preliminary ones. There're still all thirty-two contestants. They'll narrow it down the next few episodes."

Ikkaku put his hands on his hips, glaring at Hisagi. "I'm not doing it. I'm only here to take Yachiru back when she's out." His frown intensified. "Where the hell is Yumichika? I haven't seen him in a week!"

Hisagi chuckled. "How far can Yachiru get? She's a kid."

"Kids model," Ikkaku said with a growl.

"How far can she get with the _rest_ of them?" Hisagi clarified, smiling slowly. "Like Rangiku..."

Ikkaku shook his head. "Hmph!"

"Mashiro's cute," Kensei added.

Hisagi shrugged. "Cute won't get it."

Kensei frowned at them both for a moment. "I want in. Let's throw for it."

They all nodded in agreement.

"Rock, paper, scissors!" Hisagi said as they all threw a hand in between them.

"Ha!" Ikkaku said gleefully, holding up his fist. "Rock! I win!"

Hisagi and Kensei scowled at him.

"Again," Hisagi said.

"Rock, paper, scissors!"

"Paper covers rock," Kensei said to Ikkaku. "I win!"

"Again," Ikkaku snapped.

Rock, paper, scissors ... Rock, paper, scissors ... Rock, paper, scissors...

Ten minutes later, the score was ten-twelve-eleven.

Ikkaku had twelve.

Kensei wasn't happy about it.

"Again," he said.

Rock, paper, scissors...

"Agh!" Hisagi lost.

"Who do you think will be out first?" Ikkaku asked.

"Hiyori," Kensei and Hisagi said in unison.

Hisagi sighed, holding his hand up in a fist. "Best out of twenty..."

* * *

**Next Photo Shoot: Animal Instincts **

**_Thanks for reading! Poll is up for The Next Top Model!_**


	7. Animal Instincts Photo Shoot

The other twelve contestants missed Kuukaku the next morning -- at least, that's what some of them told each other -- as they trickled down the curving staircase to the kitchen, fearful of what the Living girl might be cooking for breakfast.

Not to worry.

"Tyra mail!" Orihime sang out as the other girls swarmed around her at the hall table. She hurriedly opened the envelope. "'You've had enough time to get the hang of modeling, so now we're changing things up. Who can work this change the most?'" She looked at the rest of them with confusion. "What does that mean?"

"Maybe we're going to go to somewhere exotic," Retsu said. "Like Paris."

"Or Forbidden City," Yoruichi said, looking to Soifon, who smiled.

"Or Milan," Yumichika said.

"Or Chuck E. Cheese's," Yachiru chirped.

They all looked at her, nodding.

"That would be fun, too," Orihime said dreamily. She looked back down at the note. "We have thirty minutes to get ready!"

* * *

Thirty minutes later all the contestants were ready, dressed in jeans and white tank tops, Yachiru's with tiny bells sewn into the hem that tinkled when she trotted into the Paul Mitchell salon in downtown Tokyo.

Jay Manuel was waiting for them, dressed in his favorite vintage black The Clash t-shirt and black jeans, as he watched the twelve contestants filter into the styling room. With him were an army of black attired, overly accessorized consultants, stylists, and Miss Jay -- in white canvas pants and knit shirt.

"Hallo, ladies!" the Jays said in unison.

A chorus of '_Hi Jay, Miss Jay'_ went up from the contestants.

Jay grinned at them and rubbed his hands together. "Today we're at the Paul Mitchell Salon, where you're all going to get your new looks. From cut and color you'll go to makeup where Smashbox cosmetics will recreate your new image -- your top model makeovers!"

The contestants all squealed, some unsure why.

"You're all gonna be bea-u-ti-ful!" Miss Jay said with a flourish and a snap of his fingers.

Jay pointed to Momo. "You'll be losing the cap, going a shade lighter, and Fiona will be bringing out your cheekbones with fabulous Smashbox cosmetics!"

Momo looked bewildered until one of the heavily adorned stylists pointed at her and waved her over to her styling station.

"Okay..." Momo said slowly, following the stylist into the rows of ultra-modern stations with enormous mirrors. Momo carefully climbed into the chair and let out a yelp as Fiona ratcheted the chair up three notches.

Jay singled out Rukia. "Rukia, dear, you're going with Marc, who's going to shorten that 'do and give you a high-dollar face!"

Rukia frowned at him, and then looked to the flamingly dressed stylist, Marc, with the faceful of piercings. She reluctantly followed him to a styling station.

Jay pointed. "Yoruichi, we're giving you angled bangs and a tawny mane to go with those brilliant eyes."

He called off the rest of the contestants one by one, and they followed their respective stylists to the mirrored stations. A murmur of grumbling rose louder through the salon, and the Jays began to circulate to check on the progress. It didn't take long to find the problems.

Jay was at Nanao's chair two minutes later.

Nanao sat in the chair, glaring at the stylist who held the scissors near her hair. "You're not cutting my hair."

The stylist gave a dramatic sigh and looked to Jay. "Jay..."

Jay put one hand on the back of the chair and looked at Nanao in the mirror. "Nanao, sweetie, everyone's getting their hair and makeup done today. We're going with a deeper black sheen, just a bit of fringe over your eyes --"

"No."

"Nanao..."

"No, Jay."

Jay stood behind her and fluffed up her hair with both hands. "All it is --"

Nanao snapped around in the chair and snatched off her glasses, giving him a piercing look.

"Aghh!" Jay stepped back, aghast. He blinked several times, then looked, ashen-faced, to the stylist. "Forget the hair. Send her to makeup."

Jay backed slowly away from Nanao. He shivered, and went to where another styling station where Rangiku had the stylist pinned against his own mirror, the scissors in her hand at his throat. "No, no, Rangiku!"

"... and, yes, I know how to hurt you, boy," Rangiku was saying to the terrified stylist as Jay rushed over.

"Put the scissors down and let the stylist go, Rangiku," Jay said slowly, making lowering gestures with his hands. "He's just going to --"

Rangiku released the stylist's black shirt, which was unbuttoned to his waist, and turned to face Jay. "I don't want to be platinum blonde! I'll look like Saitou Hitomi!"

Jay recalled the Melon Kinenbi member, looking to the mole near Rangiku's lip. "But she's beautiful."

"Yeah, but I don't want to look like her. I'm _me_."

Jay nodded slowly, reaching for the scissors she handed him. "Okay, maybe just lighten your hair a little --"

"No."

"Then highlights, to bring out --"

"No. No cutting, no coloring." Rangiku crossed her arms, straining her tank top, lifting an eyebrow.

After a thirty second stare down, Jay consented. "Okay, head on over to the Smashbox consultants for your makeup," he said.

Rangiku beamed. "Thanks, Jay!"

"It might count against you at judges' table!"

She waved him off.

Jay turned around as a screeching sound came from across the room. At another station Hiyori was standing on the chair, grabbing the stylist's hair until the bony-skinny woman howled in pain.

"I don't want a faux-hawk!" Hiyori tugged harder on the stylist's pink and gold hair. "You hear me?!"

Jay pushed his way through the other stylists who were arguing with the contestants to where the Vizard was attempting to crawl on top her stylist's shoulder.

"Get her off! Get her off!" the stylist cried, batting at Hiyori.

Jay got as close to Hiyori as he dared. "Hiyori, honey, back in the chair."

Hiyori turned on him, brandishing a handful of pink-gold hair she'd ripped from the stylist's head. "I don't want to look like a push-broom!"

"Faux-hawks are very fashionable now --"

"No!"

"Okay, let Marie go and we'll see what else we can do for your hair," he said desperately.

Hiyori released the stylist and slumped into the chair, staring at Jay in the mirror. "I like my hair."

"Okay, okay." He sighed. "Head on over to makeup for your consultation." Barely had he dodged Hiyori's beeline for the makeup room than he heard another squeal, this one of glee. He looked around until he found the slightly overweight stylist hovering over Nemu sitting very erectly in a chair before a mirror across the room.

Curious, he went there.

The stylist pulled a plump hair through Nemu's short hair, nodding at her in the mirror. "... just a little shorter, and some blue highlights to bring out the natural ... inkiness."

Jay grinned at them. "Well, it seems like Nemu is cooperating with us." He looked at Nemu in the mirror. "What do you think of what Chantilly has planned for you?"

"It is acceptable."

"It's ... _acceptable_?" Jay frowned, then shrugged, unwilling to question her agreeableness. "Let me see it when it's done, Chantilly."

As he turned, Miss Jay took Jay's arm. "Trouble in paradise," the effeminate man said in a muted tone. He nodded to where Yachiru was sitting on the stylist's table before the mirror, applying thick layer upon layer of different colors of lipstick -- to her cheeks. "She got to Smashbox early."

"Good lord, what's wrong with these girls?" Jay looked around at the other stations where the shinigami were arguing with the stylists, and winning.

"No one wants there hair cut or colored."

They both looked to Nemu, where Chantilly was making a superhuman effort to cut through her hair with the scissors.

"What's going on now?" Miss Jay said. They watched as Chantilly brought out another pair of scissors, and attempted to cut Nemu's hair, to no avail.

Jay waved at them. "Forget the cut, Chantilly. Go straight to the tint."

Miss Jay nodded to where Orihime was at another station, shaking her head adamantly. The Jays went there.

"... I can't," Orihime said through her tear-stained face to the sympathetic stylist. "I can't cut my hair."

He patted her shoulder. "But Miss Jay said --"

"What'd I say?" Miss Jay asked, looking at the stylist, then to Orihime. "What's up, sugar?"

Orihime sniffed, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "I never cut my hair."

"Everyone is getting their hair cut and colored today, princess," Jay said gently.

Orihime looked around at the rest of the salon, where no one was getting their hair cut. "No, they're not."

The Jays exchanged looks.

"Refusing to have your hair cut will come up at judges' table," Miss Jay said. "It could send you home."

Orihime nodded. "You're going to send us all home?"

Jay groaned. "She's got a point," he said lowly to Miss Jay. He looked back to Orihime's sad brown eyes. "Okay, head on over to makeup and let them --"

"Thanks!" Orihime was out of the chair in a flash, bounding toward the makeup room.

The Jays looked around the salon at the malcontent stylists and the resisting contestants.

"Well, this was a bust," Jay said.

"Tyra be _ma-ad_," Miss Jay said with a nod.

* * *

After the attempted hair and somewhat successful Smashbox makeovers, the contestants assembled before the cameras and lights against the blue backdrop for the group collage shot.

A frazzled Jay stood before them, looking taxed, and gazed out over them all with unconcealed dismay.

"Ladies, I have to tell you, refusing to have your hairstyles changed will come up at the elimination judging," he said pointedly.

The contestants stared back at him, unmoved.

"Only Nemu agreed to the changes Tyra wanted to see made."

They all looked to Nemu, who looked exactly the same as before.

"There's nothing _changed_ about her," Yoruichi said.

"No, no." Jay scratched the back of his head. Nemu's hair had proved un-cuttable, resisted color applications, and wouldn't hold a curl, no matter how much it was processed. It didn't even smell of chemicals after two hours of treatments.

It confused both Jays.

But they moved on.

Jay quickly assembled the twelve contestants to take their individual beauty shots that would later appear in a somewhat embarrassingly close pose after editing. They had all insisted on the natural beauty look, utilizing very few of the cosmetics Smashbox had hoped to impose on them. Jay spoke until he was nearly hoarse, trying to dictate poses he wanted without needlessly annoying the ones prone to becoming annoyed, of which there were many. Some were surprisingly photogenic. Others never would be.

* * *

The contestants spent the rest of the day relaxing around the pool, eating what they individually fixed for dinner, theorizing what the next elimination photo shoot would be, and glossing their lips.

Except Yumichika, who spent all of forty-five minutes vigorously scrubbing his face to remove the metro-sexual look from his features.

* * *

It was five-thirty the next morning when Nanao and Retsu sat with Nemu in the kitchen of the house, drinking tea. They were always the first up in the morning, which left the lavender bedroom to Momo and Rangiku upstairs.

Nanao narrowed her eyes at the cameraman who stood at the corner of the room, an omnipresent presence that was starting to wear on her nerves.

Retsu's, too.

"Aren't you ever going to leave?" Nanao asked him, knowing the answer.

The cameraman shook his head.

Nanao sighed, looking to Retsu. "Not even a real answer."

Restu shrugged. "You knew that going into this."

Nanao looked back at the cameraman, who appeared restless, watching them anxiously.

"Just do it!" she called to him. "We know you're going to!"

The cameraman looked around awkwardly, and quickly walked over to the plant stand beneath the living room mirror. He slipped the envelope into the holder, and hastily returned to the corner, lifting his camera into position again.

Retsu looked to Nemu, then to Nanao. "Should we?"

"How much you want to bet the Living girl will be down in fifteen seconds?"

Nemu looked to Nanao. "She's on her way now."

Barely had Nemu finished speaking than Orihime skipped down the stairs in her pink camisole and short set, hair disheveled, and went straight to the stand.

"Tyra mail!" she called out happily, dancing from foot to foot.

"Told you," Nanao said as she and Retsu and Nemu met Orihime.

The thunder of footfalls on the staircase announced the rest of the contestants as they rushed Orihime.

"Ooh! Ooh! What is it?" Rangiku asked, tucking herself in as her short yellow robe fell open.

The cameraman zoomed in.

"Read it!" Yachiru insisted, climbing halfway up Yamichika's back.

"Oh, what nice penmanship Tyra has," Orihime marveled.

Everyone leaned closer as Soifon snagged the letter from Orihime.

"'Sometimes it's not about the fashion; it's about the image that you have to portray, and this client has a mammoth-sized image in mind. Be ready at six-am.'"

"Mammoth?" Rukia repeated.

"Elephants!" Momo said, cowering a little.

Everyone looked to the clock on the wall.

"What time is it now?" Yachiru asked.

"Yikes!" Orihime said. "Half an hour!"

* * *

Forty-five minutes later they were all assembled in front of the peacock pen at the East Tokyo Zoo, the camera crew and lights set up before a display of potted tropical plants. Jay Manuel -- dressed in khaki pants and button-up shirt -- looked at them all, in a slightly better mood than the preceding day during the un-makeovers. Beside him stood his assistant.

Jay held his hands up as Yachiru bopped around happily at her surroundings and Hiyori did chimp calls.

"Good morning, ladies!"

"Morning, Mr. Jay," they all sang back.

"Today's elimination photo shoot will be done here, in the new peacock pen at the East Toledo Zoo," he said, gesturing to the expanse of yard. "Next month is the grand opening dedication of the peacock pen, and the zoo has commissioned billboards to be placed around the city." He smiled grandly at them. "Featuring all of you!"

"Us?" Momo asked.

"You, dearie," Jay said, nodding. "You'll each be assigned a type of animal. You're to take that animal, and bring it life -- model style. Now remember," he said, looking to Hiyori, "you're a model first; a model acting like your assigned animal. The zoo wants wild, exotic, alluring animal photos. Not rabid take-a-bite-out-of-the-visitor photos. But keep your spark. Got it?"

Shaking of heads, a few nods.

"Well, I'll walk you through it when it's your turn." He pointed to a curtained area that was set up behind him. "Now, I'll call off your names and what animal you're to emulate, and then head to dressing and makeup." He looked to the notepad his assistant handed him.

"I want to be a gazelle," Orihime whispered to Rukia.

"Ooh, me, too," Rukia said with a nod.

"Momo," Jay said, reading from the notepad, "you're a butterfly. "Nanao, you're a zebra! Yachiru, you're a pony!"

"Yes!" Yachiru cried, leaping into the air. "Yes! Yes!"

"...Retsu, you're a snow tiger. Nemu, black widow spider. Hiyori, monkey..."

A giggle went through the contestants. Hiyori didn't know whether to be angry or happy. She scowled.

"... Soifon, you're a panda. Yumichika, you're a peacock..."

Nanao looked to Yumichika. "You're a _peacock_, and _I'm_ a zebra?" She rolled her eyes.

Yumichika frowned.

"... Yoruichi, you're a black panther..."

Yoruichi smiled, nudging Soifon.

"... Rukia, you're a rabbit..."

Rukia jumped up and down. "Chappy!"

"No. Rabbit," Jay repeated. "Rangiku, you're a giraffe, and Orihime, you're a squirrel." He handed the notepad to his assistant. "Got it? Now head to dressing and makeup, and show us your animal instincts!"

An hour later, Yoruichi was up first, and she glided onto set with a catlike prowess that seemed all too fitting for her role. She wore an-all black ensemble of a velour vest and pants, and the make-up around her eyes had been done in a way that made her look even more feline-like, if that was even possible.

"This is going to be an easy shoot," Jay whispered quietly to the photographer, who nodded slightly in agreement as he watched Yoruichi take center stage.

"Just give us those feline poses," Jay said to her, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun.

Yoruichi stood in front of a small grove of ferns, then crouched down slightly before stopping. "No hooch, right?" she asked, one brow raised a bit.

"That's right. Keep it model-y," replied Jay, his tone hopeful.

That hope wasn't acknowledged, unfortunately.

After Yoruichi's shoot was finished, and after the photographer had stopped his gushing nosebleed with a whole box of tissues, Orihime stepped into the pen, looking slightly bewildered, but yet excited at the same time.

Her hair was tied back in a high ponytail, one that resembled a tail of a squirrel, and in addition to the wide-eyed squirrel-esque makeup, she was wearing a brown flannel form-fitting top and matching brownish-red capris pants that had vertical running stripes that were reminiscent of a squirrel's.

"Do I have to climb the tree?" she asked, frowning slightly as she looked up at the tall tropical tree that looked to be the centerpiece of the shoot.

"No, you don't actually have to climb it," Jay said, turning and fishing around for something in a bag. "We just want you posing by it, and interacting with it." He pulled out a black plastic bag and tossed it to her.

Orihime caught it, still a little perplexed.

"Acorns," Jay elaborated with a nod. "Scatter them around there."

"Oh. Okay." Orihime did as was told, and after she was finished, another crewman came over and got the bag from her.

"All right Orihime; ready?" Jay asked as the photographer got into position, a tissue stuffed up one nostril.

The girl nodded eagerly. "Yup."

"Show me squirrel!"

Orihime crouched and started digging in the perfectly cropped grass, burying an acorn.

"No, no, honey," Jay said quickly. "Don't dig up the grass. Just be squirrel-like."

She looked at him for a moment, and then stooped, gathering up acorns, clutching them to her chest, chattering at them, shouting, "Mine, mine, mine!"

"Well, that's better," Jay said as the photographer snapped shots.

When Orihime was finished with shooting and collecting nuts, the scene was changed to include a fake log at center. Jay looked around for Momo as the crew situated the log for its best angle.

"Momo!"

Momo stepped forward, looking especially delicate in her black sequined leotard and tights, black and gold antennae sprouting from her headband. From her shoulders draped a cape of spectrum colored beads, attached at the ends to her wrists. She looked to Jay, shuffling to the log.

"Now Momo, you're a butterfly, a newly formed butterfly, opening your new wings," he said, nodding to the log. "Use the log to show us flight."

Momo smiled. She leaped onto the log, spreading her arms to open the colorfully beaded cape, arching high into the air. She landed and leaped again.

"Wow," Jay said, surprised, looking to the photographer that was snapping away. "Are you getting this?"

"You bet."

Jay nodded. "Very good, Momo. Be sure to look at the camera when you're leaping."

Ten minutes later Momo had completed her successful shoot, bringing a smile from both Jay and the photographer.

For Yachiru's shoot the log was removed, and a fake fence brought in. Jay looked around for the pink-haired girl.

"Where's Yachiru?" he asked his assistant.

The Japanese man pointed to where Yachiru was galloping around in her pink felt suit, a pony-eared headband on her head, hair extensions flowing behind her in pink, yellow, and purple.

"Yachiru!" Jay called.

The pony-girl looked his way and galloped toward them.

Jay grinned and nodded to the photographer. "Shoot her now."

The photographer snapped away as Yachiru got closer, bobbing her head, hands held up prancing-pony style in front of her. She galloped up to the fence and jumped over it and stopped before Jay.

She gave him her best whinny.

Jay gave her a thumbs-up.

And then she took off again across the peacock pen.

Jay sighed. "Did you get any good ones?" he asked the photographer.

"A dozen."

"Good." Jay looked down at his notepad as the log was brought back out. "Rukia!"

Rukia hopped up to him in a white rabbit suit and ears.

"No, don't actually hop, Rukia."

Rukia twitched her black drawn-on whiskers at him.

"This is more Easter Bunny than rabbit," Jay said. "I want to see rabbit."

Rukia jumped onto the log and looked at him. "Pyon! Pyon!" She bared her teeth at Jay and growled.

It took the whole fifty frames to get a decent photo of Rukia that wasn't too fluffy or too savage.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon was spent shooting, chasing down Yachiru, and coaxing Hiyori out of the trees. Judging was in two hours, so the contestants headed back to the house for a quick clean-up, and were back before the judges table that evening.

Tyra, size svelte, stood in front of the table, dressed in a skin-tight leopard print sheath dress that showed her curves, a necklace of dusty gold beads shaped like endangered animals at her neck. She looked at the twelve contestants at the other end of the carpet runner.

She then proceeded to recite the prizes that were to be won for being the last model standing, and went on to introduce the judges.

"First, on my left is runway trainer extraordinaire, Miss Jay Alexander."

Miss Jay nodded and smiled.

"On my right is noted fashion photographer, Nigel Barker." She gestured to said cameraman, who flashed all of the girls a charming smile.

"We also have Mr. Ishida, fashion designer for the hippest of Tokyo-ites. And, last but not least, is this week's guest judge," she said, pausing, "Mr. Kiss-kay U-ra-haha."

Kisuke nodded with a slight grin playing at his lips, dipping his hat slightly.

"All righty then. Now that we've got that out of the way, let's look at everyone's best shots." Tyra took her seat and then smiled at Momo. "Momo, you're up first."

Momo hesitantly came to the front of the pack, then scuttled down to where the red carpet runner ended.

"Oh, I forgot to address this before," Tyra began suddenly, sitting forward slightly. "This week, you were all supposed to have makeovers, but in actuality, it was really just a test," she said quietly, emphasizing the last word. A smile came to her lips. "We actually think that you all already have hairstyles appropriate for your faces and body types, so we suggested makeovers that wouldn't suit them at all, to see if any of you would realize how crazy you'd look and object."

A chorus of "oh"s and sighs of relief erupted from the group of models.

"As it turns out, only Nemu agreed to the makeover," Tyra said, looking to Nemu at first, and then turning to the other judges. "What was it, Nemu," she began to ask, "that made you agree to it?"

Nemu clasped her hands tightly in front of her. "I was told to."

Miss Jay adjusted his twelve-pointed tiara as he sat up straighter. "You can't blame a girl for following orders."

"But in turn you would have to penalize the ones that didn't go along with it," Nigel said, rather smartly, in some people's opinions.

"But that would mean everyone else would be sent home," Tyra said.

"Wait. So Nemu wins?" Uryuu asked, suddenly interested in the conversation. "It's over? We're finished filming?"

The contestants all exchanged nervous and confused glances, and after a quiet, incoherent conversation between the judges, Tyra sat straighter in her chair again, completely poised and pleasant looking.

"We will proceed with the judging," she said sweetly, smiling at Momo, who had been standing in front of the judge's table for nearly ten minutes. "Let's see your best shot, Momo."

The photograph of Momo flicked onto the screen, and Miss Jay gasped.

"Now if that isn't a butterfly about to take flight, I don't know what is."

"Good pose," Nigel said, nodding a little. "It would've been really easy to take this to a cartoonish level, but you've done a nice job of not overdoing the pose. Your arms are raised just enough, and your face is absolutely flawless."

Momo shuffled a little, blushed, and bowed her head some. "Thank you."

"All right. Thanks, Momo." Tyra smiled at her. "Next is Rangiku."

Rangiku sauntered down the carpet, stopped, and gave them a bewitching smile.

Nigel smiled back.

Tyra's eye twitched. "What was your animal, Rangiku?"

"Giraffe."

"Let's see your best shot."

On the screen appeared Rangiku in camel colored, brown-splotched bodysuit, her exposed skin made-up to match, her hair pulled severely back from her face in a top bun. Her head was turned away, her brown and tan painted neck angled to appear elongated, fake black lashes over her half open eyes looking at the camera, balancing stiltedly on her six-inch platform shoes in a stance that showed off her long legs.

"You got it, girl!" Tyra said with an enthusiastic smile. "Giraffe isn't easy to pull off, but I see model here!"

Nigel nodded. "Very elegant. Very good."

Tyra smiled at Rangiku. "Thank you. Now we'll look at," she looked to the other contestants as Rangiku returned to the line-up, "Soifon."

Soifon waked down the runner to stand before the judges table.

"What was your animal, Soifon?" Tyra asked perkily.

"Panda."

"Oh, cute. Let's see your best shot, Soifon." Tyra looked at the screen as a photo of Soifon in a black and white slightly blousing Lycra suit showed up, round black ears on her head, and dark makeup around her eyes. "Hmm, I see panda, but not so much model."

"I see all panda," Uryuu said, barely audible.

Miss Jay looked at the screen, shaking his head. "Lordy, that's one sad stuffed animal. Who would hug that?"

Soifon glared at him, reaching one hand to her scabbard before remembering she didn't have it with her.

"Pandas are generally thought to be cuddly, at least," Nigel said, wagging a finger at the screen. "This isn't cuddly or model-like."

Soifon narrowed her eyes at him. "Pandas are lethal. They are bears."

Tyra forced a smile into place. "Thank you, Soifon."

The contestants continued until each had had their fair share of criticism. Tyra finally dismissed them for the judges deliberation. When they were gone, all male judges' hands reached for the photo of Yoruichi on the table before Tyra.

"Let go," Kisuke said as Nigel gripped the photo.

Nigel frowned. "In a minute. This girl has real feline likenesses; not just the makeup and outfit. You can almost see her purr and growl."

"She does purr," Kisuke said, his eyes moving over the photo of the black panther-like woman posing supplely, golden eyes on the camera as if daring it to move, dark skin catching the lighting perfectly.

"What exactly does that mean?" Nigel asked, fingers tight on the photo Kisuke was still trying to pull away.

"Uh... she ..." Kisuke cleared his throat and gave a goofy smile. "I'd have to say she wins."

Uryuu was having none of it. He held up a photo of Orihime clutching acorns. "This is better. Anyone can do a cat. Now a squirrel -- that takes ability."

Miss Jay sighed. "Every week it's Orihime with you. You got a thing for her, Mr. Ishida?"

Uryuu blushed scarlet. "...No..."

Kisuke took the moment to yank the photo of Yoruichi from Nigel, who glowered at him.

Tyra sighed and stuck the photo of Rangiku in Nigel's hands, and then she held up Retsu, who was outfitted similarly to Yoruichi, except in snow tiger motif. "Now this is cat, too, but Retsu just doesn't embody the same essence Yoruichi does."

Nigel nodded in agreement, glancing briefly at Retsu before looking again to Rangiku's photo.

Miss Jay sighed and gave a mock yawn, patting his mouth with his hand. "Boring kitty, Retsu is." He pulled Nanao's photo from the stack before Tyra. "Zebra. Not an easy animal, but Nanao gives it a good shot." He pointed to where Nanao's hair was tufted in sectional ponytails down the center of her head to fall at the nape of her neck. Her face was made up in stark black and white striped makeup. "Her eyes have that liquid animal quality, and she sells zebra. Not horse; _ze-bra_."

"Which brings us to My Little Pony." Tyra held up a photo of Yachiru in pony-drag. "Jay Manuel absolutely fell all over himself loving this girl's photo. She didn't even pose; he just had the photographer shoot her in full gallop."

Nigel looked at the photo of the girl, still gripping the picture of Rangiku. "Yachiru is good in this one. Not exactly top model, but I can see it on a billboard. It would bring a smile from everyone who saw it. It sells _zoo_."

Miss Jay tapped the photo of Hiyori under Tyra's hand. "So does this one. It screams 'Caution: Monkey House.'"

Kisuke looked sadly to the photo, sighing.

Tyra giggled, pushing the photo of Hiyori in her monkey suit, dangling by one hand from a tree limb, screeching at the camera.

Nigel shrugged. "She didn't give it a chance. If she stopped with the rabid Kuukaku-grin it would have been better. Monkeys can work; Berryz Koubou released a music video to _Yuke_ _Yuke Monkey Dance_, and it was huge. Those costumes were hideously cute, but they made it work. Hiyori," he gestured to the photo, sighing, "she exudes '_get lost'_ in every shoot."

Tyra nodded in agreement and set two photos before her. "What do we think about Yumichika and Rukia?"

"Yumichika did... pretty darn good," Miss Jay admitted after a moment as he looked at said contestant's photo. "Yumichika captured the essence of peacock. If that's even possible."

"It certainly is," Nigel said, looking at the photograph as it was handed to him. In the picture, Yumichika stood proudly, slightly to the side, with make-up that made his eyes bird-like and an outfit that resembled the colorful plumage of a peacock, but without the humungous tail fanned out, instead draped gracefully in a large semi-circle.

"I say Yumichika's in," Tyra said, taking the photo back.

Uryuu shifted slightly. "But I don't think that --"

"And here," Tyra said quickly, cutting him off, yet again, "is Nemu. The only one who listened and agreed in the makeovers."

Miss Jay _hmphed_. "Oh, she said yes, honey, but there was no make-overing done. I don't know what that girl is made out of, but she is tough."

Uryuu chuckled, and Kisuke nodded, smiling widely.

Tyra held up the photo of Nemu in a velvet black widow spider bodysuit, three mock spider legs dangling from either side of her torso, supported by thin fishing wire that was attached to her wrists so the legs moved when her arms did. She was crouched, arms hunkered, somehow still looking seductively deadly.

"Looks fake," Kisuke offered.

Uryuu shook his head. "I think she's very well done."

The other judges looked from Kisuke to Uryuu.

"Are we all looking at the same girl?" Miss Jay asked in confusion. "'Cause I see a big spider. Not a fake one."

Kisuke shrugged. "I guess so."

Nigel nodded. "She's good. But there's still something dead about the eyes. Shark-like."

"Next. Rukia," Tyra said, eager to move the subject away from her failed attempts at makeovers. "She's the last one."

"Definitely didn't save the best for last," Nigel said with a sigh as he looked over the picture, where Rukia was posing more as a rabid Chappy gigai than she was as a rabbit. "I'm not sure what it is about this picture, but it just doesn't work."

"It doesn't even remotely resemble rabbit," Uryuu said.

"Well, that's all of them," Tyra said slowly as Nigel handed the photograph of Rukia back to her. "Nigel."

He looked to her.

"You're petting the giraffe again."

Nigel took his fingers from off Rangiku's photo.

Tyra looked down the table. "Have we reached a decision?"

Everyone nodded.

* * *

The contestants returned to the room, where Tyra stood in front of the judging table with eleven photos in hand. Once all of the models were settled, she continued, "Twelve beautiful girls stand before me, but I only have eleven photos in my hands. The girl whose name I do not call must immediately return to the house, pack their belongings, and go home."

Everyone nodded silently and Tyra cleared her throat, then turned over the first photo in her hands.

"Yoruichi."

Yoruichi stepped forward and received her photo, then slinked back into the line, tossing a sly look Kisuke's way.

"Momo," Tyra said next, and Momo came forward and received her photo.

Then, it was Yumichika. After that, Rangiku, Soifon, Nanao, Yachiru, Nemu, Retsu, and Orihime were all called. The only two left were Rukia and Hiyori, standing before Tyra.

"Rukia," Tyra said slowly, looking at the dark-haired girl. "Hiyori." Her voice took on a somber tone. "One of you is going home today." She paused, then continued. "Rukia, we feel as though you didn't exactly capture the essence of what is the rabbit," she said. "You were a little too goofy, we felt. But it was still an earnest effort, and you've definitely got potential." She looked to Hiyori now. "Hiyori, you, on the other hand, didn't seem to take it seriously at all. You were way too literal in your portrayal of a monkey, and not only that, but you didn't listen to what Jay and the photographer were telling you. The last thing that a client wants is a model that doesn't listen. Only one of you will be continuing on in this competition, though, and we're about to find out who." Tyra paused, raising the last photograph that she held in her hand slightly. Then, ever so slowly, she turned it over. "Rukia. Congratulations."

Rukia's limpid eyes pooled tears with emotion. "Thank you, Tyra."

Hiyori frowned intensely. "That means I'm out?"

Tyra nodded. "You couldn't show us more than fierce and angry, and a top model needs --"

"Yeah, yeah." Hiyori waved her down.

"I voted for you!" Kisuke called out helpfully.

Hiyori gave him half a grin and turned on her heel. "See ya!" she said with a wave at the other contestants.

And then there were eleven.

* * *

**Next Elimination: Cheongsam Photo Shoot**

**_Who's The Next Top Model? Poll is open!_**


	8. Meanwhile IV

"_... Guess who's back; Back again; Shady's back; Tell a friend ...."_ Tousen stopped singing along with the ear buds stuck in his ears and looked in the general direction he thought Aizen and Gin to be in the Green Room of the studio. "If this is Stevie Wonder, Gin, why does he keep referring to himself as Shady?"

Gin grinned.

Aizen rolled his eyes, then looked to Gin. "Amusing yourself?"

Gin shrugged, taking up half the olive green sofa as he sprawled over most of it. "Gotta do something to pass the time."

Aizen touched his hair with his hand, trying not to muss the job The Next Top Model stylist had coiffed upon him earlier. "Why are you two even here? I'm judging today's taping."

"_Guest_ judging," Gin clarified as Tousen went back to singing along with his custom mixed iPod tunes. "Just back-ups, Boss. Something happens to you, one of us can step in for you."

Aizen gave him a wary look, and then they all looked to the large plasma screen on the green wall across the room as it suddenly lit up. The sounds of the opening music to The Next Top Model came on, scenes of the already filmed episodes flashing, ending with Tyra Banks' giving the viewers a seductive _"You wanna be on top?"_ lip-sync.

Aizen smiled at the image. "Yes, please."

Gin leaned forward in his seat.

"This is a preview of the episode airing tonight?" Tousen asked, blank stare on the screen.

Gin nodded, and then said, "Yep."

It took ten minutes into the episode of unblinkingness as the two-out-of-three men watched their former comrades flounced down the carpeted runway before either found their voices.

"Tell me again," Gin finally said, eyes open wider than they'd been in months as he watched a very curvy Rangiku take her walk on the carpet, "why we left all _this_ behind?"

Aizen blinked a few times at the screen before answering, crossing his legs uncomfortably. "I never saw Retsu with her hair back before. She's lovely."

"Hey, _leader_," Gin said sharply, "I asked why --"

"Halibel and Milarose are there, too," Aizen said, clearing his throat. "They're, well, they're ..."

"Scary?" Tousen offered.

"I was thinking more ..." Aizen wrinkled his face as he watched Sunsun do her turn on the carpet onscreen. "Number _One _Espada? Who told them all that?"

"No one has to tell them that," Gin mumbled.

"My _favorite_?" Aizen said as the episode progressed. "All of them said that?"

"I'm sure they didn't mean it," Gin said with a sigh. "It's just a marketing gimmick."

Aizen scowled at him. "Is that supposed to sound better?" A moment later his scowl intensified. "Momo never looked like _that_ when I knew her," he said barely audibly. "That might have changed things."

Gin shot him a look.

As the finalist names were called onscreen and the squealing and threats commenced amongst the finalists and losers, Aizen and Gin exchanged looks. So did Tousen, but less so.

"Not a single Arrancar female made it to the finalists?" Aizen said with more than a hint of disbelief.

"That's what Tyra said," Tousen said with a shrug.

Aizen stood up and gestured to the screen. "Not a one? Why not? Look at them. Some of them are stunning! What are we doing wrong?"

Gin shrugged, eyes on a certain strawberry blonde onscreen who was jumping up and down, clutching Momo's arm. He grinned wider.

"Halibel is some of our best work," Aizen mused. Then an uncharacteristic look of dread crossed his face. "Do you know how mad she's going to be?"

Both Gin and Tousen looked to him, paling slightly.

"Well, uh ... Ulquiorra is still at Las Noches. He can deal with her when they all get back." Aizen looked to the clock on the wall.

Gin sat back on the couch, a pleased smile on his face as the episode ended. "I can do this. Oh, hey, anyone know who Boris Vallejo is?"

Tousen plugged his ear buds back into his ears and turned up the volume as a Vanilla Ice tune came on.

Aizen nodded. "I think he wrote _Star Trek_."

* * *

**_Who's The Next Top Model? Poll is up!_**


	9. Cheongsam Photo Shoot

The eleven contestants were assembled in the house on various pieces of furniture in the living room the next morning, awaiting their Tyra mail, when the super model herself walked in the front door with a flourish and two cameramen, and several other people.

"Hey, hey, girlfriends!" she called to them, waving, her slender figure packed into her fashionably ripped jeans and bright tangerine sweatshirt strategically placed half-off-shoulder, smiling at them.

The contestants rushed her, squealing a collective "Hi, Tyra!"

She gave them all hugs and patted Yachiru's head.

"Everyone all set in their rooms now?"

Nods all around.

"Enough bathrooms for you all?"

"Yes, Tyra!"

"Good. I came to see you all today because I have a very special -- actually two very special guests -- for you to meet later." She gave them all her best smile of anticipation. "Let's get comfy!"

They headed for the couches and bean bag furniture, leaving Tyra half a couch for herself. She smiled over them, and then put on a more sobering expression. "Top models in the field have always had to remain at their peak weight to showcase the designers' clothes to their best. And sometimes, I have to say, that's not so easy to do. Some girls resort to unhealthy methods to keeping that top form." She looked around at them all. "Anyone know what I'm talking about?"

Retsu frowned at her. "You think some of us are fat?"

"Oh, no, but you all have different figures and styles. We've had plus-size models win the competition before," Tyra said earnestly.

Rangiku narrowed her eyes. "I am not fat."

Tyra shook her head. "Of course you're not, but you do have a figure that would lean more toward swimsuit and lingerie modeling than catalog or runway."

Rangiku shrugged. "I'm happy with that."

Tyra looked slowly from Rangiku to Retsu. "But sometimes models take extremes too far. They go beyond a modest diet. They develop problems with food." She looked to each of the contestants. "Anyone know what I'm talking about?"

"Well," Momo said sheepishly, "I like watermelon taffy a lot."

It wasn't what Tyra was looking for. "Oh, well, what I meant was, does anyone feel they've eaten too much, and make themselves sick?"

"I get sick when I eat too much candy," Yachiru added hopefully, standing on the couch beside Yumichika, leaning her elbow on the top of his head.

"But do you make yourself vomit?" Tyra pressed.

"No. It just happens."

Tyra made herself smile as she looked to the rest of the contestants. "I guess what I'm asking, girls, is do any of you have a problem with food?"

Orihime slowly pulled a handful of animal crackers out of the box in her lap. "Sometimes I make things no one wants to eat."

"Do you make them so no one else wants them?" Tyra asked, grasping. "So you can eat it all yourself? Do you feel like purging later?"

"No..."

A ripple of giggles went through a few of the contestants that had been victim to Orihime's cooking. Tyra looked at them. "No one here eats until they feel they have to vomit?"

Yachiru nodded, fingers absently toying with the ends of the feather dangling off Yumichika until he pulled it out of her grasp.

"I do," she said. "Usually Gummy-Bears."

Tyra gave up on the subject and decided on another sore spot she could irritate. She looked brightly at them, gaze settling on Nanao, Rukia, and Momo in turn. "We all have areas, as models, we need to work on. Fix. Hide. Problem spots. We all have them. Every model has had to overcome a tiny little imperfection. The best models know how to do that, even turn it into an advantage. Anyone here know of their flaws?"

The contestants all looked at each other for several long moments, until everyone was looking at Yumichika.

"Well, some of us have less obvious obstacles," she said with a gracious smile to man whose face was starting to redden, just a little. Tyra's attention flicked to Momo. "So, Momo, do you know what you're little flaw would be?"

Momo frowned, looking down at her denim mini skirt. "I guess I'm too gullible."

Tyra quirked a frown. "Oh. Well, that can help give you a vulnerable look, and the camera really loves that, so --"

"It's not you're fault," Rangiku said, leaning over the low table to pat Momo's arm on the bean bag across from her. "If you're lied to, you're --"

"Of course _you_ would understand," Yoruichi said with a mischievous smile for Rangiku.

The taller woman sent her a dark look, then raised an eyebrow. "I do understand. And so should _you_."

"Being banished isn't the same as full-fledged mutiny," Yoruichi shot back.

"_You_ weren't the one who got banished; you followed willingly," Rangiku reminded.

"Girls, girls," Tyra said, confusion evident as the cameras tried to follow the exchanges between the two contestants.

"It's still different," Yoruichi said with a sniff.

"Maybe it's worse," Soifon said with a slight growl, looking to Yoruichi.

"We've been through all that," Yoruichi reminded her former bodyguard in a low tone.

Soifon shrugged. "I've come to terms."

Tyra gave the Chinese woman a sympathetic look. "Have you?"

Soifon pouted. "Yes."

"Because I see a girl who's unhappy with herself. Are you sure you're --"

"I guess I do compensate. A little," Soifon said timidly.

"Of course you do," Tyra said leadingly. "We all have to cope with --"

"I tend be a little harsher on others when I think they're a threat," Soifon said.

"You feel lacking, and therefore jealous of the other contestants," Tyra said, nodding, "especially those with more voluptuous figures?"

Soifon wrinkled her face at Tyra. "What?"

"Don't let your Chinese features hamper you, girl. You're a beautiful Chinese woman, and you should be proud of it!" Tyra said jubilantly.

"I am."

"But you're not letting it out. Embrace your differences!"

Again everyone looked to Yumichika.

Nanao cleared her throat as Yumichika began to redden deeper. "Uh, I don't always want to be so elusive. Sometimes I want to get caught," she half-mumbled.

Tyra's attention snapped to her. "You mean eating, honey? Do you hide to eat?"

"... No."

"You hide the food?"

"No."

Rangiku looked at the bespectacled woman. "You _want_ to get caught?"

Nanao's facade of indifference was back up. "Don't tell him."

Rangiku smiled wider. "You want him to catch you? All you have to do is slow down a little, Nanao, and don't hit him so hard with that book."

"You're not talking about food?" Tyra asked.

Nanao shook her head.

Tyra sighed in exasperation and tried to steer the topic back to where she wanted it to go. "We've all got our personal flaws, but we have to learn to work with them. Like Momo," Tyra waved a hand at the girl, "and Nanao, Rukia, and Soifon. They've all got decidedly more slender figures than the rest of you contestants."

Momo, Nanao, Rukia, and Soifon looked at each other.

"That's what you were talking about?" Rukia asked, violet eyes wide. "Physical flaws?"

Nanao frowned. "I don't consider being slender a flaw. I can be loved for who I am."

Tyra looked from Nanao to Momo to Rukia. "Girls! As a model, we all have flaws -- physical flaws -- that we should overcome. Big nose. Close-set eyes. Wide hips. That kind of stuff. What're ya'll talking about?"

Silence reigned in the living room.

"I think we're all well-adjusted," Nemu said after a moment.

"Okay. Moving along," Tyra said, shaking her head, fixing her smile back onto her face. She snapped her fingers to one of her attendants standing with the cameramen. "Today we're lucky enough to have Han Lau with us, noted expert in calligraphy, to show us the beauty of the Chinese language in written form."

Retsu frowned. "You know we're in Japan, right?"

"Oh, yes," Tyra said as the attendant passed out art pads to everyone, "but I thought it would be nice to have a lesson from an expert in the beautiful art of Chinese calligraphy before we have our next photo shoot." Tyra giggled, putting a hand over her mouth. "Oops! Maybe I've said too much!"

Several of the contestants agree with her, but didn't say so aloud.

"Mr. Han Lau," Tyra said, standing and bowing to the older short Chinese man who stepped out from behind the much taller cameramen, "welcome to the The Next Top Model house!"

The contestants all stood and bowed to Han Lau, who bowed in return, before they all resumed their seats.

"Right here, please," Tyra said, motioning for him to sit beside her on the couch. She addressed the contestants. "Mr. Han Lau is going to show us a few basic steps to creating beautiful Chinese characters, and then we're all going to try it ourselves."

No one was impressed by Tyra's choice of guests, nor their calligraphy lessons, but they went along with it. After twenty minutes of lecture and practice, during which Yachiru spent her time making ladybug characters in comic panels out of her inked-dipped fingerprints, Han Lau stood and bowed to them all, thankful for once his English was sketchy, and made his departure with eleven sheets of paper with the contestants' names inked on in florid strokes.

Once out of the house, Tyra stormed up to her entourage, who were waiting at her limousine in the drive, and found the show's producer.

"No eating disorders! You said there'd be eating disorders!" she yelled at the middle-aged woman in the feminist-tailored suit.

The producer put a calming hand on Tyra's shoulder as the model huffed and grabbed the Diet Coke her assistant handed her. "There, there, Tyra. We'll find another subject to inflame."

"Aggh! Where am I going to get drama if everyone is so _well-adjusted_ this season?" Tyra slurped down her soda until it almost backed up her nose. She coughed a bit, waving off the monogrammed tissue her assistant offered her. "Find me something to bring on the drama!"

* * *

The afternoon was passed putting out the small fires Tyra's girl-talk session had started. It was with relief that they heard Orihime's "Tyra mail!" call out from the house to where most were sitting poolside, watching Yachiru do cannonballs from the wrought iron balcony of the yellow bedroom.

Orihime collided with the rest of the contestants at the sliding glass door. "'So you've embraced China, but how well can China embrace you? Be ready in twenty minutes and try your best to fit in and act the part.'" Orihime danced back and forth. "Maybe we're going to China."

Retsu looked closer at the note. "Maybe the next judge is Chinese."

Yoruichi looked to Soifon. "Maybe it's that Han Lau from this morning."

* * *

Forty-five minutes later Jay Manuel -- dressed in black jeans and a black rayon shirt with dragons embroidered in gold on the back -- watched as the eleven contestants gathered before him in the back of the park on the west side of Tokyo that had been closed off for their purposes. With him stood a petite Chinese woman in her early fifties, wearing a midnight blue cheongsam with red flowers, her hair pulled back into a tight bun.

"Hallo, girls!" he greeted.

"Hi, Jay!" the contestants returned, smiling.

"Today we have a special guest." He indicated the woman to his side. "With me is Qian Li, master cheongsam designer who has created dresses for a wide range of celebrities, including Lucy Liu and Gwyneth Paltrow."

A chorus of squeals went through the girls.

Qian Li smiled at them. "Today you are going to be showcasing my latest designs for this year's collection. I've spent my heart on these designs, and am very proud of them, so make sure you show them off to their full potential."

Jay nodded and turned to the girls. "Half of you will be doing photo shoots out here, and half in-studio." His assistant handed him a notepad. He glanced at it for a moment. "Nemu, Yachiru, Nanao, Momo, and Yoruichi, you'll be having your photo shoots first here, in the park. The rest of you will have your shoots inside later, so you can take it easy for a while. Orihime," he found the auburn-haired girl in the group, "Mr. Han Lau decided your calligraphy was the most beautiful-est, so you get first choice of the cheongsam designs by the lovely Miss Qian Li."

Orihime smiled and made a deep bow to the designer. "Thank you!"

"No," Jay said, "those shooting outside first, off you go to hair and make-up," he pointed to the curtained off area behind them under the trees. "The rest of you, don't get lost!"

It took Orihime all of three minutes to invade the rack of colorful Chinese dresses and pick out a marigold yellow sleeveless design with red and white flowers before she was joined by Momo, Nemu, Yachiru, Nanao, and Yoruichi. After those doing their photo shoots outside had made their choices, the other contestants selected.

Leaving Yumichika to ponder the rack, frowning at the options available. He looked to Soifon. "Isn't there a male version of the cheongsam?"

She gave him a shrewish look and picked a purple-black dress from the rack.

"So much for the kinder, gentler Soifon," he mumbled, looking back over the rack.

Soifon glanced at the rack. "There aren't any changshans, Yumichika," she said tolerantly. "You're out of luck."

He reluctantly picked a blue dress.

* * *

First up for the outside photo shoot was Nanao, dressed in a flattering short-sleeved black silk cheongsam with orchid flowers. She stood beneath the cherry blossom tree, looking back at the photographer and Jay as they looked at her.

"Very nice lines, Nanao," Jay said with a nod. "The black against the green of the grass behind you contrasts nicely. Now," he waved a hand to his right, "you're waiting to rendezvous with your lover, and he's late."

"Why?" she asked.

"Why? Uh, it doesn't matter. Let's see you're first reaction to your secret tryst," Jay said.

A sheen of terror crossed Nanao's face and she looked warily behind the tree.

"No, no, Nanao," Jay said as she cowered. "You look like you're going to get pounced. Let's see dreamy."

Nanao made a silly schoolgirl face.

Jay shook his head. "Not quite. Show us wistful."

Nanao did her best wistful face.

Jay scratched the back of his head. "How about yearning? Can you do yearning?"

"All the time," she murmured. She clasped her hands before her and looked longingly to the sky with a small smile on her face.

"Ooh, perfect," Jay said, nodding and smiling at the photographer as the camera snapped shots. "Very Jeanette MacDonald, but it works."

After Nanao's fifty frames of perfect poses, Yoruichi took her turn, dressed in a short scarlet cheongsam with black flowers. Her hair was up in its usual high ponytail, her catlike gold eyes on the crew.

"What do you want to see, Jay?" she called from beneath the tree.

Jay considered her for a moment, and then nodded. "I think we'll have you work with the tree, Yoruichi. Just put your hands on it, like a senior picture photo for the yearbook."

"The what?"

"Come on, Yoruichi; it hasn't been that long, has it?" He held up his hand in a like-pose. "Against the tree."

Yoruichi put her hands on the tree, resting lightly against it, head tilted to the camera.

"Oh, good, but take your fingernails out of the bark, honey."

The photographer shook his head. "I see cat."

Jay nodded. "So do I." He said to Yoruichi, "Relax your fingers. You're not going to climb the tree. Just rest against it."

Yoruichi retracted her claws.

"I still see cat climbing a tree," the photographer said to Jay, snapping photos nonetheless.

"Me too, but -- No!"

Yoruichi had leaned into the tree, hitching her short skirt higher, one leg bent, knee resting against the tree trunk. "No?"

"Ahh, no. Too much like pole-dancing."

She flung her head back, hair bouncing. "Better?"

"No." Jay sighed. The cameraman reached for his pocket package of tissues. Jay frowned. "What is it with nosebleeds and this town?"

The cameraman shrugged and stuffed a tissue up one nostril. "Elevation?"

After fifty frames of half-hoochie shots, Yoruichi was done and the cameraman was on his second package of tissues. Jay was glad to see Yachiru bounce up to them in her pastel pink cheongsam, kite in hand, contagious smile on her rosy face.

"Hello, there, Yachiru," he greeted as she hopped in place. "You're going to pretend to fly a kite for your shoot, okay?"

"Pretend?"

"Well, there's no wind today, so we're going to wire up the kite and have a lighting guy hold the kite up in a tree so it looks like the wind is carrying it."

Yachiru's face fell. "Pretend?"

"Yes, sweetie."

"That's no fun." She looked the lighting man holding a spool of fishing line. "Okay."

The kite was wired up, the lighting guy in the tree, and Yachiru was holding the kite string ten minutes later. Barely had Jay said "show me..." than Yachiru had yanked the string, pulling the guy out of the tree.

Four times.

Then, after the lighting guy had finished getting his sprained arm wrapped with two ace bandages, the cameraman got half a dozen passable shots. After Momo and Nemu's photo shoots they moved inside to finish the other contestants.

* * *

In the studio set to look like a ritzy night club, Rukia pulled at her green dress, making a face at the confining fit, hearing a split of material.

"Again?" the wardrobe woman said.

"It's too tight," Rukia said as the woman hovered at her side with needle and thread for the third time in half an hour.

Around them the other contestants milled, watching Jay and the cameraman direct Rangiku in her violet cheongsam against the night club setting.

"It's supposed to be tight," the wardrobe woman said, stitching closed the same torn seam she'd already mended above the slit at Rukia's thigh.

Rukia pulled at her cap sleeve, tugging the green silk out of the wardrobe woman's fingers. The woman gave Rukia a longsuffering look.

"Sorry," Rukia said sulkily.

After Momo's successful photo shoot, Retsu took her turn before the cameras in a deep violet-blue cheongsam that was adorned with pink and white embroidered flowers. She went to the bar counter and stood in front of the leather seated stools, looking to Jay and the cameraman as the lights were adjusted overhead.

"What's my motive?" she asked.

"Motive? Oh, you don't need one, Retsu," Jay said. He gestured overhead. "We're not going to run the disco ball, but the camera flash will reflect off it, so don't let it distract you."

She put one hand on her hip, waiting.

"Now just act like you're having a night on the town, your girlfriends are in the restroom and you're saving your place at the bar," he said as the cameraman kneeled beside him.

"Just wait?"

"Well, give us some poses, show off the dress."

Retsu arched her back and gave the camera a withering look.

Shots flashed.

"Now show us aloof _'You can't dance with me,'" _Jay said.

Retsu gave him the same pose, in reverse.

"Something a little different," Jay said. "Maybe something that says _come_ _hither_."

She frowned. "Why?"

"It's a night club, Retsu."

She leaned back against the counter and gave them a knowing look.

It wasn't quite what Jay was looking for, but fifty shots later he decided it was as good as it was going to get. Slowly the shoots were finished, ending with one very frustrated photo shoot director presiding over two settings, ten low energy contestants, and Soifon.

She stepped before the cameraman, in front of the bar counter in the night club setting, looking at Jay as he rubbed his face wearily.

"Okay, Soifon," he said, pushing his hair back from his face with one hand as the cameraman reloaded film. "Let's mix it up some. We've had about every club scene I can think of except a brawl."

"Who would I brawl with?" she asked almost eagerly.

"These are individual shots, honey. Just you." He looked over her raspberry-black cheongsam with black flowers. "Looking lethal, I must say." He grinned. "Maybe you could imitate a fight stance. You know, some _Crouching Tiger-Kill Bill_ poses. Can you do that?"

Soifon smiled. And then set off into a flurry of Chinese martial arts moves that would have made Jackie Chan proud. The cameraman couldn't snap fast enough, and was tempted to reload, just for the fun of it, but Jay stopped him.

"Good stuff, Soifon," Jay said as she continued to pose after her fifty frames were up. "That's a wrap, honey."

Soifon paused in half attack mode. "Are you sure? I've got more, Jay."

"That's it. Excellent."

Soifon beamed.

* * *

The shoot lasted longer than usual, and the contestants barely had time to change into their jeans and pink t-shirts with Chinese script letters that read _Qian Li Originals _on the front. They arrived to the judging just in time.

"Five minutes, Ms. Banks," the producer said to Tyra as the leggy model stood before the judges table early that evening.

Tyra waved to her, then smoothed her brilliant dark red and gold embroidered cheongsam with both hands. She paced before the table as last minute details were attended before the judging filming started, looking from Nigel Barker to Aizen seated beside him.

She perked up with a smile for the guest judge. "So, Mr. Aizen, you're a businessman?"

Aizen shifted a little uncomfortably in his casual khaki button-up shirt and black chinos. "Well, yes, I am."

"From Tokyo?"

"Well, no," Aizen said, searching for words. "Hueco Mundo. I doubt you've heard of it."

"Oh, I have." She gave him a dismissive wave.

He watched her dubiously.

"What kind of business are you in?"

Aizen thought about his answer. "Right now I'm in the middle of a hostile takeover. Very complicated."

Tyra nodded, accepting the answer. "I see."

"No, you don't," Uryuu said from his seat at the other end of the table.

Aizen looked his way. "I know you..."

Uryuu looked back to Tyra, slouching some so that most of his profile was hidden behind Miss Jay, who was getting his tiara polished.

"Be sure to get all the rhinestones shiny, hon," Miss Jay said as the props girl standing behind him busily wiped at the tiara on his head. "Gotta see it gleaming." He looked down the table to Aizen. "I think I've seen you before. Ever been in _GQ_ magazine?"

"No," Aizen said slowly.

"With that hair? Hmm. You should be." Miss Jay touched his tiara testily as the props girl left after his primping. "You look the part."

Aizen wasn't sure whether to be flattered or not.

Minutes later, the contestants entered the judging room, and Tyra stood before the panel's table and introduced both the judges and the prizes of the competition. Nobody had a positive reaction to the introduction of Aizen, and, noticing the unpleasant atmosphere that had begun to envelope the room, Tyra quickly moved on as she took her seat.

"This week, the girls were asked to learn the ancient art of Chinese calligraphy," she said, glancing at the other judges as she spoke. "Mr. Aizen, what do you think about it?"

Aizen sifted the woman an unimpressed look, then shrugged slightly, folding his hands in front of him on the table. "It's a beautiful form of art."

"And Miss Orihime, you won this challenge," Tyra continued on quickly, looking to said girl. "Congratulations. This is your first win, isn't it?"

Orihime nodded shyly, a slight blush coming to her cheeks. "Thanks."

"What Orihime won was first pick of gown for the photo shoot," Tyra said as she sat back slightly. "And this week, you weren't wearing just any kind of gown. What kind were you wearing, Orihime?"

"Cheongsam," Orihime replied readily, beaming.

"All right, then. Let's see your best shot.

Orihime's picture flicked onto the screen.

Uryuu sat up straighter immediately, eyes glued to the photo of the red-haired girl in a typical ancient Chinese room setting seated at a low table, carefully painting a traditional Chinese mask. "It's beautiful."

"It is," Nigel said with a nod, then continued, looking to Orihime, "but it just doesn't do it for me. I mean, it's a nice shot, but it doesn't really seem like you're modeling."

"I have to agree," Miss Jay said, tilting his chin slightly as he looked over the photograph. "A little too caught-while-doing-crafts for me."

"Well _I_ disagree with you both," said Tyra suddenly, pointing at the picture with her pen. "I think it's gorgeous." She turned her attention to Orihime now. "What most girls don't understand is that it's only when you don't _look_ like you're modeling when you really are. The fact that neither of them think you look like you're modeling is a compliment," she said firmly, adding a nod.

Orihime smiled a little. "Thanks."

"All right. Thanks Orihime." Tyra glanced down, then up again. "Next is Rukia." She smiled as Rukia approached down the carpet.

Rukia's photo blinked onto the screen.

"It's a good shot," Tyra said with a nod at the photo of Rukia standing on tiptoe to reach across the bar counter, the exaggerated slit showing more than a little thigh. Tyra raised an eyebrow at Rukia. "I'd say that's quite the cheesecake shot there."

Rukia blushed as pink as her shirt. "The seam kept ripping."

"Hmm. And in the right spot, too. Makes your leg look longer. Thank you, Rukia." Tyra looked at the line of girls as Rukia turned and left. "Momo! You're next, honey."

Momo hesitantly started down the runway, each step forced, eyes locked on Aizen at the table, until she got halfway down it. Then her head lifted, her shuffle slowly stopped to be replaced by the model stomp she'd been practicing with Nemu, and she stalked down the carpet to stand before Tyra.

"Hmph!" she said in Aizen's direction, chin jutting out, one hand on her hip as she looked to Tyra.

Aizen looked a little guilty as Nigel turned to glance at him.

Tyra smiled at Momo. "Now that's better, Momo! Some spunk. Sass becomes you. Let's see your best shot."

They looked to the screen as a photo of Momo in the light blue cheongsam with navy and silver flowers flashed on. In it Momo was picking flowers in the park, a sweet smile on her face.

"Very nice," Tyra said as she nodded. "Innocent, refreshing. A good photo, Momo."

After the rest of the contestants were called and their best photos shown, they were dismissed, each throwing Aizen a glare as they left the room.

Nigel frowned at Aizen. "You don't seem very popular with our contestants." Before Aizen could comment, Nigel turned to Tyra.

"Let's start with Nemu," said Tyra, sliding the picture of aforementioned girl towards Miss Jay. "What do we think about her photo this week?"

"We think Nemu's looking a bit call-girl," Miss Jay said rather knowingly, a hint of attitude in his tone.

"I'll have to agree with you there," Tyra said, looking at the photo of Nemu, who was holding up a glass of champagne rather seductively as she lounged in a club booth. "A little _too_ hooch."

"Then what do we think about Retsu?" asked Nigel, as he slid the photo of Retsu out from beneath Nemu's.

"Retsu looks like she's Nemu's madam," Miss Jay replied quickly as his brow rose slightly. "Mm-hmm. These girls are _in_ the business."

"They wouldn't look like that if you hadn't told them to pose that way," Uryuu said lowly, not at all interested in where the conversation was headed. He was just glad that Orihime hadn't posed like Nemu and Retsu, otherwise...

"And Yumichika looks like a man in drag, to be frank," Nigel said suddenly, nearly cringing at the photo of Yumichika. "Didn't fill out the cheongsam at all; it looks terrible."

"But I still see a model there," Tyra said as she tapped the picture. "And you know what I always say, Nigel, a model should be able to make a potato sack look like a million bucks."

"True, but I don't see it here."

"Speaking of _filling it out_," Miss Jay said, gesturing to the photograph of Rangiku before trailing off into silence.

"That girl could fill _anything_ out," Nigel said, suddenly forgetting about Yumichika. "Why she hasn't approached _Sports Illustrated_, or _Playboy_, I haven't the faintest idea..."

"Because she wants to be a _model_, Nigel," Tyra replied readily, and a bit too curtly for everyone's taste.

They all looked to Aizen, who was silently observing.

"No comments, Mr. Aizen?" Tyra asked sweetly.

"Uh, well, they're all very ... agreeable..." he finally added, looking at the photo of Rangiku that Nigel was still holding.

"Agreeable?" Miss Jay scoffed. "That's what you say about the weather. Even if you don't like women, these are --"

"I do like women," Aizen clarified briskly.

Tyra suddenly pointed a finger at Aizen, wagging it. "That's where I've heard of Hueco Mundo before. I did a photo shoot there for Coppertone."

Aizen frowned. "I'm quite sure you didn't."

"Hmm, maybe not Coppertone. Maybe it was Maybelline." She smiled at him. "Lots of sand, big sky, right?"

Aizen scowled. "Lots of sand, yes, but --"

"I knew it!" Tyra said with a victorious smile. "On with the judging." She held up Soifon in an action shot. "This girl nailed the concept with every shot. Absolutely brilliant."

Nigel nodded. "Photographers would give a week's pay to get some of the shots she gave today."

Tyra placed Retsu and Nemu's photos before her on the table. "These two just didn't get the concept. Pretty girls, but not model."

Uryuu's fingers had inched over to Orihime's photo near Tyra. "I think Orihime captured the best concept. The girl next door. The kind you take home to mother. That sells the dress best."

Aizen held up the photo of Momo. "_This_ is quintessential innocent. That sells the dress best."

Uryuu glowered at him. "You're a monster..."

All the other judges looked to the Quincy.

"Mr. Ishida," Tyra began, "Mr. Aizen is our guest, and as such --"

"He's right. Momo is innocent," Uryuu agreed. "He should _know_."

A few awkward moments passed, during which Aizen kept his eyes on the photos.

"Well, Tyra said finally, trying to raise the moment, "let's vote on who goes home."

The contestants returned to the room a few moments later, where Tyra stood in front of the judging table with ten photos in hand. Behind her Aizen was ignoring the looks Uryuu and Nigel were training his way.

As they fell into line, Yumichika leaned to Nanao, nodding to Aizen. "How did he get picked for this?"

Nanao shot a glare at the guest judge. "I don't know. He's probably wondering the same thing about you."

Yumichika frowned.

Once all of the girls were assembled, Tyra addressed them. "Eleven beautiful girls stand before me, but I only have ten photos in my hands. The girl whose name I do not call must immediately return to the house, pack their belongings, and go home."

Everyone nodded, holding their breath. Tyra cleared her throat, then turned over the first photo in her hands.

"Soifon."

Soifon came down the runner to collect her photo, smiling fully.

"Congratulations. You're still in the running to become The Next Top Model."

Soifon made a slight bow, threw Aizen a dark look, and returned to the line.

"Momo," Tyra said, smiling at the slight girl.

Momo walked briskly down the runner, tossing Aizen a belittling look, and smiled at Tyra.

"Congratulations. You're still in the running to become The Next Top Model."

Momo giggled as she took her photo, then scowled at Aizen and went happily back down the runner.

"Yachiru," Tyra called next.

The pink-haired girl skipped up to Tyra, blowing a bubble with her hot pink gum.

"Top models don't blow bubbles at judging," Tyra said.

"Okay," Yachiru said, face hopeful.

"Congratulations, you're still in the running for The Next Top Model."

Yachiru took her photo, then pointed a finger at Aizen. "You're a bad man!" Then she grinned and bounded down the runner and into line.

"You don't have any fans here," Nigel said to Aizen.

Aizen shrugged.

The rest were called.

Orihime, Rangiku, Yoruichi, Rukia, Nanao, Yumichika.

Tyra looked to the two remaining contestants. "Retsu, Nemu, please come down here."

Retsu and Nemu approached Tyra, Retsu resignedly, Nemu without any expression at all.

Tyra looked slowly to each of them. "I have only one photo left," she said breathily. "Retsu, we asked for sophistication, but emotion as well. You didn't deliver. Nemu, we wanted to see a flirty side, but you showed us flirty -- with a price tag." Tyra slowly turned over the last photo. "Nemu, you're still in the running for The Next Top Model."

Retsu smiled sadly and looked to Nemu.

Who remained unmoved.

"Thanks, Tyra," Retsu said with a smile. She waved to the panel. "Thanks, Mr. Ishida, Miss Jay, Mr. Barker." She leveled a look of disdain on Aizen. "You can rot."

Aizen cleared his throat. "I'll have you know, I voted --"

"Thanks everyone," Retsu said to the other contestants, turning her back on him. "Good luck!"

Nemu collected her photo from Tyra and rejoined the line. As they sifted out of the room, Momo leaned to Yachiru.

"Give me your gum."

Yachiru frowned at her.

"I'll give you more at the house," Momo promised.

Yachiru's eyes lit, and she took the fist-sized wad of bubblegum from her mouth and gave it to Momo.

Momo looked back at the table as Aizen stood with the other judges. She flung the hot pink sticky ball at him, and then followed the other contestants out.

"Good one," Rangiku said, smiling as they left.

At the table, Aizen took a side-step at the impact as the pink blob caught in his hair. He looked at the disappearing contestants, pulling at the goo firmly lodged in his once-immaculate hair. "Who did that? Momo!"

Nigel chuckled.

And then there were ten.

_

* * *

_

**Next Photo Shoot: Negligee **

_**Who is The Next Top Model? Poll is up!**_


	10. Meanwhile V

"Where the hell is everyone?!"

The mild warm easterly breeze sweeping across the Seireitei was nearly reversed for several seconds at Zaraki's bellow.

The Fourth Seat of Eleventh Division had withstood his captain's verbal onslaught for five whole minutes, and his courage was flagging. He didn't have any answers.

"I know where Yachiru is," he said as the Fourth Seat opened his mouth with a feeble answer. "Where's _everyone_ _else_?"

The mountain of a captain stared at the quivering officer until the man nearly melted, and then stormed out of the Eleventh Division office and across the compound to where he knew answers lay.

Isane heard the large captain's approach, and felt the rumble in the floor as she sat at her Fourth Division office desk. A moment later, the front door swung open and Zaraki filled the doorway as she hurried to it.

"Captain," she stammered as he stepped in, seeming to grow larger by the second.

"Where's Captain Unohana?" he boomed, glancing around the empty entryway.

"She's not here, Captain," Isane said as boldly as she could, clutching her papers closer to her chest, but not quickly enough. "She's --"

"What are those?"

Not wanting to answer didn't outweigh wanting to _not_ answer, so Isane carefully eased the eight-by-ten glossy photos away from herself. "Uh, well, they're...they're ..."

Catching a glimpse of leg, he snapped them away from her. "Who's this?" He glanced at the top photo.

Isane gave him a sour look. "Captain Unohana."

"_What?"_ His narrow eyes opened wider, focusing on the photo of Retsu as Country Lolita before moving on to the next picture of the Sailor Scout shoot. "Skirt's too short," he mumbled, flicking to the next photo. "Stripes?"

"She's supposed to represent a zebra," Isane said helpfully, almost timidly as he towered over her.

"Why?"

"Uh, it's what the photo shoot was about that day."

"Now, this one is good." He held the photo of Retsu in the violet-blue cheongsam closer to her, crowding her until she stepped back.

"Yes, it's very good."

Zaraki flipped through the photos again, alternately nodding and grunting approvingly. "Handsome woman."

"Uh, yes, sir..."

His eyes lingered on the Sailor Scout photo. "Nice legs." He frowned at the skimpy black Sailor Star outfit. "You're sure this is a beauty pageant?"

"It's not all about beauty," Isane clarified, frowning. "There's more."

He nodded. "Better with her hair back." He mumbled something. "Long legs. Didn't know she was hiding all that under..." He looked sharply to Isane.

She shook her head vehemently, blinking quickly. "I didn't hear anything."

He nodded, looking back to the photos.

"Good-morning, Isane, Captain Zaraki," Retsu said suddenly from the doorway, smiling at both of them as she stepped in.

"Good-morning, Captain Unohana," Isane said hastily, guiltily, relieved, wishing she had the nerve to try pulling the photos away from the hulk of a man standing before her.

Zaraki glanced from the photos to Retsu, who now wore her long dark hair in a single thick braid, falling to one side of her shoulder in a graceful drape.

He looked her over slowly from head to toe, nodding at the shihakusho that covered much of her. He cleared his throat.

"What are you doing for lunch?"

* * *

**_Who's The Next Top Model? Poll is up!_**


	11. Lingerie Photo Shoot

Yumichika awoke extra early the next morning to Yachiru's candy-laden breath leaning close to his face. He opened his eyes slowly, focusing on her cheery face so close to his in the yellow bedroom.

"Good morning!" she said loudly, breathing jelly beans on him.

"What're you doing?" He sat up as her sticky fingers patted his chest where she'd managed to settle a necklace of her own making around his neck. He looked closer at the piece of jewelry, created of sticky colorful candy wrappers.

"Do you like it?" she asked, still in her _Hello Kitty_ pajamas, hopping in place beside his bed.

He wrinkled his face at the item. "Did you eat all of these?" he mumbled.

"Yup! Yup!" She jumped and clapped.

"This morning?"

She nodded so fast he couldn't see it.

He looked to where Nemu was sitting on her bed -- as always in the morning and all through the night. She was wearing a colorful lei made of sucker wrappers.

"It is very attractive on you," she said to him before looking to Yachiru, who had retreated to her own rumbled bed. "She is a very inventive girl."

Yumichika grumbled something only Nemu could hear and had the sense not to comment on. "Thanks," he said begrudgingly to Yachiru.

"You're welcome!" Yachiru reached under her pillow and pulled out a bag of Gummy Bears. "I'll make you a matching bracelet later."

"Oh joy." He had to admit, the necklace smelled fruity.

"Nemu could pierce your ears, and we could make earrings, too," Yachiru offered through a drooling mouthful of gummies.

Nemu looked to Yumichika.

He shook his head. "I'll pass."

"We could make you look like a real girl," Yachiru said, adding half a dozen licorice gummies to her mouth. "I'll bet Nemu could even make you a girl for _real_."

Nemu looked to Yumichika with new interest, tilting her head to one side.

Yumichika shook his head. "I'll pass on that, too."

"Tyra mail!" Orihime's voice rang through the hall.

In a flurry of candy wrappers they all three burst from the room to collide with the female pajama-clad bodies breaking from the other bedrooms before bounding down the staircase.

The ten contestants hovered around Orihime as she braced herself against the wall as they closed in.

"Read it!" Momo said, tugging on Rangiku's arm, trying to see over Soifon's head in front of her.

"'You've been in this competition long enough to learn that looks can go a long way, but that doesn't mean your mouth can't get you in trouble,'" Orihime read. "'When the pressure's on, do _you_ always know the right things to say? Be ready at nine a.m. sharp for a fieldtrip.'"

They all looked to the clock on the wall over Orihime's head.

"An hour and forty-five minutes," Nanao said. She looked around at the rest of them. "Anyone up for French toast?"

"Ooh, me!" Orihime said, waving the note. "With dill relish!"

Rukia groaned. "Not on mine. Honey."

"How about..."

They all looked to Yachiru who had suddenly stopped speaking and clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

"You all right?" Nanao asked, watching a trickle of black ooze from between the girl's fingers.

Yachiru nodded, and then sprinted up the curving staircase.

Yumichika watched her go. "Maybe just some dry toast for her."

* * *

The limousine stopped before the Scene Ten Studios where the offices of _Potato_ magazine were, and the contestants were greeted by the very attractive Megumi Tojima, field coordinator for the celebrity section of the magazine.

"Hello, hello, so glad you're all here," she said after they had assembled in the conference room where a camera was set up with a cameraman and crew. "I am Megumi Tojima, liaison to our celebrity interviewees. Today we are going to see how well you do expressing yourself verbally. Mr. Jay Manuel will be watching the videos later to see who handled themselves best in an interview."

The contestants looked around at each other. Yachiru blew a big blue bubble with her gum.

"First off, no gum chewing in interviews," Megumi said.

Yachiru made a sad face and spit the gum in the nearest waste basket.

"I will interview a few of you first so you can see how the format is done, and then you will pair up and interview each other." Megumi smiled at them. "All right?"

Everyone nodded and agreed.

After the lighting and camera crew made their adjustments and the contestants were miked up, the interviews began. Megumi sat across from Nemu in a chair in front of a window showing the beautiful Tokyo skyline.

"What would winning The Next Top Model mean to you?" she asked Nemu.

Nemu sat very erect in her chair and said immediately: "It would mean I was never voted out."

Megumi nodded. "Yes. Okay, technically, yes," she looked to the other contestants standing around outside of camera view. "We'll conduct these interviews under the premise that the interviewee has won The Next Top Model. Let's try that."

Nemu nodded.

"So, you have won The Top Next Model. What does that mean to you, Nemu?"

"I've been selected as the best candidate out of many well-qualified entries to do commercial model work and further my career as a figurehead for national brands," Nemu said precisely.

Megumi nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes. I suppose that would be exactly what being The Next Top Model would mean." She looked out at the other contestants, and then back to Nemu. "Thank you, Nemu. Now, let's hear from Momo."

Nemu stood up from the chair and Momo took her place. Megumi smiled warmly at Momo.

"You've just won The Next Top Model, Momo. What are you looking forward to most in your new career?"

Momo thought for a moment. "Umm, well, I guess, I think it would be..."

"Try to be more fluid," Megumi said. "You hem-haw and it loses the audience interest."

"Oh, sorry." Momo nodded. "It would mean smaller girls like me can be models, too. I think it would show younger girls that many styles of models are needed. Anyone can be beautiful."

"Oh, very good, Momo," Megumi said. She turned to the other girls. "Now you can interview each other to see how it goes on both sides of the conversation. Remember to look at the hostess, to make good eye contact, do not fiddle with your clothes, and smile when needed. Okay?"

She gave them a few more pointers, and then stood off to the side to watch as Rangiku interviewed Nanao. Rangiku smiled at the woman across from her.

"So, Nanao, you're The Next Top Model. What do you think got you so far in the competition?" Rangiku asked, raising an eyebrow.

Nanao thought for a few seconds. "I'd have to say it was never underestimating the other contestants, Rangiku. They were a wonderful group to compete with."

Rangiku nodded knowingly. "How gracious of you. What is the first thing you'll do as The Next Top Model?"

"Well, I'll have to request a leave of absence from my current position," she said with a little sigh, "but after that I'll be very busy working in the -- global community." She smiled as she caught herself from completing the sentence as she'd planned.

"I see," Rangiku said with a nod.

"Very good," Megumi said from the sideline. "Good. Now, let's see Yoruichi conduct an interview with Yumichika."

Yoruichi and Yumichika took their chairs, he looking uncomfortably at the woman across from him. Yoruichi smiled, eyes glinting as she considered her first question.

"Mister Yumichika," she said, drawing out the form of address, crossing her legs and leaning over them to him, "how does it feel to be the first man to win The Next Top Model?"

Yumichika sat straight in his chair, watching her warily. "I believe beauty transcends gender." He smiled back at her. "Just as some people transcend species."

Her gold eyes narrowed on him. "Oh? Interesting. How do you think you'll be accepted by the public?"

His grin dropped. "There have been male models before."

"No male has ever won The Next Top Model."

"No where does it say The Next Female Top Model," he reminded.

"It's implied." Yoruichi's foot wiggled in a circled.

"Where?"

"There are no facilities in the house for a man."

He frowned. "I haven't had any problems."

"Hmm. You haven't. That would cast suspicion on your masculinity, wouldn't it?"

"Okay, good interview," Megumi said suddenly, clapping a few times, her face hinting at desperation. "Let's move on. How about now we have Orihime and Yachiru?"

Yoruichi and Yumichika took there places in the standing audience as Yachiru and Orihime took their chairs. Yumichika watched the new interview begin before leaning closer to Yoruichi. "Do you resent my being here?"

Her eyes slid to look up at him. "Of course not, Yumichika. It was only a fake interview."

"Oh."

"Although they do think you're gay," she added as they watched the new interview.

He frowned. "Who does?"

"Everyone."

He looked around at the contestants. "Everyone?"

"No, not them," she said, smiling slyly. "Just Tyra, and the Jays, and all the viewers."

He scowled. "But why?"

She looked him over slowly, smiling. "Well, you are a _very_ pretty man, Yumichika."

He wanted to smile, but something in her smile wouldn't let him.

In front of them, Yachiru was standing on the chair, attention on Orihime.

"You just won The Next Top Model --" Yachiru looked quickly to Megumi. "She really won?"

"No, just pretend," the woman said.

"Oh. Okay." Yachiru looked back to Orihime. "You won The Next Top Model, now what color of pony are you going to get?"

"Pink," Orihime said immediately.

"Me too!" Yachiru hopped in the chair. "What's your favorite candy?"

"Strawberry Pocky!"

"Me too. And Gummy Bears. What's your favorite animal cracker?"

"Elephant." Orihime smiled.

Yachiru smiled back. "Iced or without?"

"Without!"

Yachiru's smile dropped. "That's wrong. Iced."

"Okay, you've done well," Megumi said, shaking her head. "The questions were a little off, but you both can think on your feet."

The interviews continued, with Nanao being declared the winner, and the contestants were treated to a tour of the offices, where they got to see the cover of the next issue of _Potato_, featuring a moody photo of L'Arc-en-Ciel.

It wasn't until the ride back to the house that Yumichika cornered Yoruichi again.

"Do people really think I'm gay?" he asked in a low tone in the limousine.

She shrugged slowly, smiling back at him. "Not everyone..."

* * *

The contestants only had a brief stint at the house, just barely enough time to grab a quick lunch, before another Tyra mail was slipped beneath the door. Orihime got there first, but she was soon mobbed by the rest of the girls.

"'Now is the time to bring it. You either have it, or you don't. You'll find out what I'm talking about at 2:00 p.m.'" Orihime looked to them all as they stood in the living room. "What does that mean?"

"Oh, this is going to be a big photo shoot," Rangiku said with a nod, then looked to the clock on the wall. "We only have an hour."

"I hope I have it," Momo said with a timid smile.

Yoruichi looked to Yumichika, nodding at him.

He frowned, looking back to the note Orihime held.

* * *

It was the usual studio lot they had done photo shoots in before that the limousine took them. The contestants all spilled out and eagerly went in the usual door, a few of them guessing at what the photo shoot challenge would be. Inside, the girls all looked around at each other as a Barry White song wove through the studio amid the soft fuchsia lights, a few looking uncomfortable at the heavily burgundy velvet draped room that had been set up in the center of the lot.

Orihime made a hesitant face and leaned to Rukia. "Maybe we're in the wrong place," she whispered uneasily.

Rukia nodded. "Maybe."

Jay Manuel parted a section of the heavy draperies and stepped out, smiling at them, dressed in white chinos and satin shirt embroidered with gold thread and studded with rhinestones. "Hallo, ladies!"

"Hello, Jay!" they called back, relieved to see him.

He clapped his hands in front of him, eyes sparkling at them in the uneven lighting. "Today you're going to be doing a photo shoot for the fantasy lingerie line from Sniggle Boop."

A low power squeal went through the contestants, a few of them turning blushing.

"Now, this is not a tawdry shoot, girls. This is Sniggle Boop's most popular fantasy wear, so make it look good. No hooch," he said, primarily to Yoruichi.

"Bleh!"

All eyes went to Yachiru, who spewed purple and pink half-digested Gummy Bears into a puddle at Yumichika's feet.

Yumichika stepped back nearly in time.

"Eww!" chorused most of the contestants.

Yachiru heaved again, this time in a different direction.

Jay looked like he was going to follow her example, but instead only paled for a moment. "Yachiru, honey, you're obviously not feeling too well. Maybe you should sit this one out, baby doll."

Yachiru made a third puddle before nodding.

Yumichika stepped closer and patted her small shoulder. "I'll take you back to the barracks, er, house."

She shook her head, one small hand half over her mouth. "You stay," came her muffled response. "I'll go."

"...okay."

"We'll see you later, sweetie," Jay said to the girl, waving one of the go-fer girls over from the side of the set who had materialized from behind a curtain. He looked at the rest of the contestants. "Anyone else feel ill?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"Just take it easy, Yachiru!" Nanao called as the little girl left with the go-fer.

"Drink orange juice!" Momo added.

"No more candy!" Yumichika cautioned.

Yachiru waved him off and disappeared out the back stage door.

"Well, that was ... colorful," Jay said, looking to the piles of neon goo on the floor as a porter settled there with bucket, broom, and floor-dry. Jay addressed the contestants again. "As I was saying, this is the fantasy line from Sniggle Boop. It's tasteful, for themed lingerie, and you should have fun with the costumes."

"Will there be male models?" Yoruichi asked.

"No, no male models today, honey," Jay said, watching Yumichika sigh in relief. "But at some point in the competition, maybe, maybe. So, our winner from the interviews was Nanao." He found the studious-looking woman in the line. "Nanao, your interview was perfect, composed and comfortable. Nice. For your prize you'll be getting twenty-five extra frames for your shoot."

Nanao smiled, nodding, a little unsure about the extra frames due to the nature of the shoot.

"Now, first up," Jay looked around as his assistant hurried up to him with a notepad, "is Soifon. You're going to be the sultry schoolgirl."

Soifon looked a little confused. Yoruichi nudged her with an elbow. "That'll be fun."

"Nanao," Jay said, reading from the notepad, "you're the distracting secretary. Nemu, you get to be the naughty nurse. Orihime, you're girl of a thousand charms -- a harem girl."

Orihime was half squealing before she thought about it. "Oh."

"...Rangiku, you're the flirty French maid," Jay continued. "Rukia, you get to be the no-holds-barred bad girl. Yoruichi, you're the sassy pirate wench. Momo, you're the seductive Little Bo Peep, and Yumichika, you're the frisky fraulein. I'll have you know that your outfit was created by the designer Santino Rice who's making a name with his Bavarian Braids line."

All eyes went to Yumichika, who only nodded for lack of knowing what else to do.

"Oh," he said after a moment. "Cool."

Jay nodded. "Now, everyone off to costumes and hair and make-up, and I'll meet you at the black velvet bedroom shoot area. First up is Orihime!"

* * *

They all found their costumes in the area set up for wardrobe changes beside the hair and make-up stations. It didn't take long for most of them to find their costumes. Momo gleefully held up the pale pink shepherdess dress with its puffy sleeves and billowing lace petticoats that made the short skirt fluff out. She smiled at the matching bonnet, and then grabbed the white staff tied with a pink bow and found her white sheer stockings and pink pumps.

Orihime watched her, and then looked back to her own outfit. "Is this harem girl or belly dancer?" she asked Rukia, pulling out the pink and garnet outfit. She frowned at the halter and harem pants and girdle.

"Are there coins attached?" Rukia asked as she searched the rack for her bad girl outfit.

Orihime shook the harem girl hanger. No clinking. "No. No coins."

"Then it's harem girl."

"Oh, thanks."

Rukia pushed the outfits on the rack to one side as she looked again through the assortment. "I don't see it."

From the other side of the rack Rangiku handed her a hanger. "Here it is."

"What? Where's the rest?" Rukia took the hanger, from which draped a few bands of black patent leather with buckles and a coiled whip.

"That's it," Rangiku said, holding the French maid outfit up to herself. She frowned at the cup size. "I don't think this is going to fit."

Rukia turned the hanger of leather straps, looking at it from all angles. "This is nothing! There has to be more."

Rangiku shook her head. "The tag says 'Bad Girl'."

Rukia looked to Orihime. "If she's the harem girl, why does her costume have so much more? Mine is nothing but a horse halter!"

Rangiku held the corset up to herself, making the white ruffles puff up under the short black maid skit. "You'll just have to make it work, Rukia. Hey, look, you've got a whip, too. Most of us don't have accessories like that."

Rukia sighed and picked at the buckles on her outfit.

* * *

Ten minutes later a bashful Orihime stood in front of a tall four-poster bed draped with white swags and mounds of crushed velvet pillows in gold and silver across the black velvet bedspread. She stood before the cameraman and Jay in full pink harem girl regalia, transparent pink veil hanging before her face, pink beaded sandals on her feet.

"Very nice," Jay said to her, grinning.

"I don't think this is the costume for me," she said nervously.

"You're fine, princess. Now take off the veil, and kind of move seductively around the bed. Remember, tasteful, not trashy."

Orihime thought for a moment, and then struck a pose and drew her fingers languidly down one arm to her face, picking the veil off and dropping it on the floor. She winked slyly at the photographer as he snapped pictures, then turned and lifted one shoulder, looking over it at them.

"Uh, not quite, Orihime. You're doing striptease harem girl. We want simple product placement. Just act like a harem girl, honey," he said.

She shook her head.

Jay sighed. "I guess you're right. We should have made you the belly dancer." He crossed his arms and tapped his chin with one finger. "Just do belly dancer. Think _I Dream of Jeannie _meets Jasmine."

"Oh, okay!" Orihime blushed a little, and then put her hands over her head and flipped her wrists upward until her bangles rattled, shoving one hip out to the side, gyrating around the bedroom setting.

"Exactly," Jay said.

* * *

After Orihime's shoot it was Nemu's turn. She stepped onto the bedroom set, dressed in her starched white figure-hugging nurse uniform that barely fell below her ... that fell well above her knees. The nurse's cap was placed precisely center on her head, the stethoscope dangling at her neck, white stockings and white stiletto pumps adding additional height to her. She stood with hands clasped before her, looking back at Jay and the photographer.

Jay nodded, smiling. "Wow, Nemu, naughty Nurse Nemu it is."

Nemu only looked back at him.

"O-kay, let's see you play the part."

Nemu stood stiffly for a few seconds, and then took the stethoscope and angled it out with a flip of her wrist.

"Uh, a little more sexy," Jay said, frowning.

Nemu put one hand on her hip, shifted her weight, and flipped her wrist again.

"Uh, I'm still not getting any life, Nemu. Try smiling and give us an enticing glance."

Nemu tried.

Jay shook his head. "You've got the smile, Nemu, but there's nothing behind it. Your eyes should be saying _Let me take your pulse_, and but instead we're getting flat-line Nurse Ratchet. Try leaning forward, let everything fall towards the camera, and hold the stethoscope out."

Nemu did as Jay directed, her skirt hitching up, bosom making a plunge toward the camera, threatening to smother the photographer.

The photographer shook his head. "Something's not working, Jay."

"I know, I know, she's usually killer in these short skirts. Maybe it's the white. Black she always does so well in," he said. "Go ahead and stand up straight, Nemu." He looked to the photographer. "We can't have a black dress on a nurse; it's too Angel of Death."

After the full fifty frames of Nemu's milquetoast shoot, she left the set and Nanao took her turn. She wore a navy blue business suit with an ultra short skit, her ruffled white blouse open to her waist, pencils replacing the chopsticks in her bun.

"Ah, very nice with the glasses," Jay said as she stood before them with her clipboard, an expectant look on her face.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, adjusting her glasses by one side.

"That. Just what you did there; not school teacher, but tilt your head down and give us a look of superiority."

Nanao dropped her head and raised an eyebrow at the camera questioningly.

"Good. Now put a little action in it. This is fantasy, remember."

Nanao nodded, smiling, and wrapped one arm around the bed post and put one knee on the mattress. She dropped the clipboard on the bed, pulled a pencil from her hair and sent a flirty look to them.

"Are you getting this?" Jay asked the photographer.

"You bet."

Nanao got her full set of shots, plus the extra frames, all of which were fairly good, and vacated the set for the next contestant.

Which was Yumichika. He'd been watching the shoots. He'd been reconsidering his choice of entering the contest. He was wondering how many Gummy Bears he'd have to eat before he could be sick enough to pass on his turn to be photographed.

But here he was.

Adorned in a white satin and lace blouse, filled heavily with ruffles to add _volume_, his black corseted midriff tied with criss-cross laces, his double layer of tulle petticoats making the black skirt flounce out to his sides -- there he stood beside the bed with a stein. Even with the corset pulled tight, he had very little waist. A manly silhouette.

Jay groaned. "Ah, yes, Yumichika, our lusty Bavarian maid."

"No."

"Okay, not quite, but let's see you sell it."

Yumichika stood awkwardly before the bed, frowning back at Jay. He lifted the stein. "Cheers!"

"We're not shooting a beer commercial, Yumichika. Think about the ensemble."

"I don't want to."

"Do you want to do the shoot?"

Yumichika looked to where the rest of the contestants were watching from behind Jay and the crew. Yoruichi smiled at him. "Yes."

"Let's have you put one foot on the -- are those moon boots?" Jay squinted at the black platform boots with thick padding.

"None of the attractive shoes would fit."

A ripple of laughter went through the onlookers.

"Okay, just hold up the stein and give us some flirty poses," Jay said, shaking his head.

Yumichika toasted them with the stein, put one hand on his hip and gave them a daring sideways smile, followed by two hours of agonizing poses.

"He just fouled my taste for beer," the photographer said when Yumichika had finished.

"Like a reject from _Cabaret_," Jay said, looking down at his notepad. "Ah, ooh, pirate wench is next."

* * *

The photo shoot ran late. Even with Yachiru's absence and Yoruichi breezing through her frames, the time it took to try to coax a passable shot out of Yumichika put the shoot right up against the judging panel time slot.

Tyra paced before the judges table nervously, size slender in her sleek turquoise bustier and cropped black leather pants, looking anxiously to the door.

"Where are they?"

Miss Jay sat behind the judges table beside Uryuu, every one of the ten shiny rhinestones in his tiara glinting in the overhead lights. "Jay say they be late, Miss Tyra."

"Ughh!" She looked to Nigel and then the guest judge, smiling at the latter.

The door open and the contestants -- still in their photo shoot costumes -- filed in. Tyra looked to them, smiling as the cameras rolled. She gestured to them.

"Long shoot, hey girls?"

"Yes, Tyra," came the half-chipper reply from the contestants.

"Sometimes photo shoots take all day and all night. Gotta be ready for that." Tyra stood center in front of the table and looked down the runway carpet at them. "I see a whole lotta sizzlin' ladies!"

The contestants giggled.

Tyra looked at them all for a moment, and then smiled widely. She did her usual recitation of the prizes that were to be lavished upon the winner of The Next Top Model, and then turned to introduce the judges.

"First, is runway trainer extraordinaire, Miss Jay Alexander."

Miss Jay nodded and smiled, tapping his tiara.

"You all remember fashion photographer, Nigel Barker." She gestured to the cameraman, who smiled charmingly at them.

"We also have Mr. Ishida, favorite designer for the fashion-forward of Tokyo. And, lastly, is this week's guest judge," she said, indicating the judge beside Nigel, "Mr. Renji Abarai."

Renji didn't react. His eyes were skipping between the pirate wench and Little Bo Peep, until he saw the harem girl.

"Mr. Abarai?" Tyra said.

Renji glanced to her after a moment. "Yes?"

"Thank you for being here."

He looked back to the line of contestants, grinning. "...okay."

Tyra turned back around. "This week ya'll got a taste of specialty catalog photo shoots. We can see what themes you were representing, so we'll get right to the judging." She rounded the table to take her seat between Miss Jay and Nigel. She looked up at the contestants. "Nanao, you're up first."

Nanao came down the carpet, power walking her black stilettos as she came.

Tyra smiled back at her. "Sex-ay! Okay, Nanao, let's see you're best shot."

On the screen flicked a photo of Nanao, half crouched on the bed on her knees, arms over her head as she worked the pencils out of her hair.

"This is a very good shot," Nigel said. "It's sexy, but strong, and not too domineering."

Renji looked to him, scowling. "You can't say that about her."

"I'm talking about her photo. It's a very strong --"

"Her skirt's riding up. It needs to be longer," Renji said, blushing a little.

Nanao gave him a disappointing look.

"You have a lot of excellent shots, Nanao," Tyra said with nod. "Extra frames, too. Very good. Next up is Rangiku."

Nanao turned back down the carpet and passed Rangiku coming up it, the latter's black skirt, small white apron, and ample bosom bouncing as she moved on the black pumps.

"Good walk," Miss Jay said. "Uh-huh. You've come a long way, baby!"

Rangiku smiled at him.

"You were the French maid," Tyra said, her left eye twitching slightly. "Let's see your best shot."

All looked to the screen as Rangiku's photo appeared. She was leaned over at the waist, fish-netted legs to the camera, showing nearly all her petticoats, dusting a bed post, torso turned just enough so that most of her was exposed in profile from the lace trimmed black bodice. On her face was a _you_ _caught me_ look to the camera.

"Very good lines," Nigel said. "Her legs look exceptionally long, and while we don't see any panty, you know --"

"Hey! You can't talk about her under -- unmentionables," Renji snapped at him.

Rangiku pointed her feather duster at Renji. "You stay out of this."

"I'm a judge," he said back to her.

"I'm talking about the photo, Mr. Abarai," Nigel said with a sigh. He turned back to the screen. "Not too coy, and not too silly."

Tyra turned to Uryuu, who was covering his eyes with one hand, peeking between the fingers. She looked down the table to where Renji was fuming at Nigel, and then turned back to Rangiku. "Thank you, Rangiku. Next up, Rukia!"

Rukia stepped out of the line dressed in her Bad Girl apparel. It wasn't much; mostly buckles on shiny black leather straps crossing her small form in a skimpy pattern that covered the hot spots, putting the Sailor Stars uniform to shame, her black bikini bottom ending in a thong. She looked from Renji, who was watching her with gaping horror, to Tyra, and then clutched her coiled whip and stalked down the carpet in her thigh high black patent leather boots.

She paused before the table, not looking at Renji.

"You were our Bad Girl," Tyra said teasingly, lifting an eyebrow.

"She's, she's wrapped in nothing but black tape!" Renji finally sputtered, standing up so fast he knocked his chair over.

"It's a classic dominatrix-style," Nigel said, "that's been --"

"She's naked!" Renji yelled, pointing at Rukia.

"She's fierce," Tyra said. She looked to Rukia. "Can you show us a little attitude?"

Rukia swung the whip over her head in a circle, then toward the table, sending a crack through the room and biting a wedge out of the table in front of Tyra.

"Yow!" Tyra yelped, nearly leaping out of her bustier. "Now that's some fierce!"

Miss Jay sat back from the table. "You don't have to show me, hon. I'm sold!"

"You can't wear that!" Renji yelled at Rukia, his face darkening.

She stood to her full artificial height in the boots and glared at him. "I'm hot, Renji! Nigel thinks so! _I am hawt!"_

"You're naked!" Renji countered, ignoring Nigel's hand tugging on his black shirt sleeve. "Cover up!"

"I'm hot! Say it."

"Rukia --"

I'm _hawt_! Say it, Renji!" she demanded, the whip twitching in her hand.

"I think she's hot," Uryuu said meekly, hoping to calm either of them.

"You pervert!" came a male voice from the doorway.

All eyes turned to see Ichigo standing behind the contestants.

"What's he doing here?" Tyra asked no one in particular. "Mr. Kurosaki, this is a closed set!"

"You can't say she's hot. That's disgusting, Ishida!" Ichigo shouted as two security guards dragged him out of the doorway.

Rukia turned back to Renji. "Say it!"

"Get your clothes back on!"

Rukia recoiled and let the whip crack over Renji's head. A look of shock flashed over his face.

"Why you ... That's it!"

He leaped over the table and charged towards her. He pulled off his t-shirt and plunged it over Rukia's small form before she could react, pinning her arms inside, and then scooped her up, slung her over his shoulder, and marched down the carpet.

"Stop it!" Rukia cried, squirming, her naked buttocks mooning over his shoulder as he headed for the hall with her. "Renji, put me down!"

"Oh, my..." Miss Jay said, watching Renji's back as they retreated out the door. "Are those tattoos?"

"Put me down, Renji!" they heard Rukia scream from the hall. "Ichigo, make him put me down! Ichigo! Take me back in there, Renji! Ichigo!"

Her voice faded, and Tyra stood up, looking to the other contestants that were giggling and mumbling amongst themselves.

After a long moment, during which the cameraman tried desperately to get Tyra's attention, she blinked a few quick times, and then composed herself. "Do ya'll think she'll be back?"

All of the contestants shook their heads.

"Is she dropping out?"

Everyone nodded.

* * *

Following that, one by one, each of the remaining contestants were critiqued and judged on both their photos and how they did in the interview, and then sent out of the room.

"Well, this has certainly been a strange judging," Tyra said, a little too excitedly, in Uryuu's opinion. "We've not only lost our guest judge, but also a contestant, and we haven't even reached our decision yet!"

"Do we even need to now?" Nigel asked, slightly skeptical as he crossed his arms, sitting back.

"Here we have Soifon's picture," Tyra said, changing subjects quickly as she pulled the aforementioned Chinese woman's photograph from seemingly nowhere. She handed the photo to Nigel. "It's _school girl_ lingerie, darling," she added in an overdone French accent.

"She definitely doesn't have the body for lingerie, but it's nice to see she's trying," Nigel replied. He shrugged, looking over the short blue plaid skirt, white blouse open to Soifon's navel -- exposing nothing -- the untied tie hanging loosely around her neck.

"She don't look like no seductress to me," Miss Jay said, raising a brow at the photo. "More like that crazy Japanese schoolgirl from _Kill Bill_, in platform Mary Janes."

"Gogo," Tyra said with a nod. "Definitely fierce, but -- "

"But you need to know where to draw the line," Nigel said quickly.

"She may not have the figure for it, but I'm lovin' her energy," Miss Jay said.

"Fierce? Energy?" Nigel said. "I say Rukia's bullwhip act takes the cake on those tonight."

Miss Jay rubbed the edge of the table where the whip had removed a chunk. "You said it."

"What about Yoruichi?" Tyra asked, slipping Soifon's photograph away and replacing it with Yoruichi's. "Yoruichi wore pirate inspired lingerie."

"Jack Sparrow would go for it, that's for sure," Miss Jay said with a firm nod. "Or that Ioz guy on the pirate cartoon."

They all gave him a confused look. He shrugged.

"_Pirates of Dark Water_, people. I was a po' black boy," he said defensively. "We didn't have cable."

"Well, now you're a rich woman, so you can watch whatever you want to," Nigel said with a chuckle.

"You better believe it, sista," Miss Jay said with a flaccid wave of his hand.

"And here we have Little Bo Peep." Tyra pushed Momo's picture in front of Miss Jay and Uryuu. "What do we think about Momo?"

"It's good, for what it is," Uryuu said half-heartedly, his mind still elsewhere, on another contestant.

"I wouldn't mind her watchin' _my_ flock of sheep," Miss Jay added, tapping the picture with his finger. "She may look all sweet and innocent, but she's got something here."

Tyra smiled. "I couldn't agree more."

"And what about this one?" Nigel asked suddenly, pulling out the photo of Yumichika. "I'm lost for words on this one, I have to say. I don't like it one bit. Looks too..."

"A tranny mess," Tyra finished for him.

"A hot mess," Miss Jay corrected. "A hot tranny mess. Look at that garter belt." They all looked closer at Yumichika's thigh in the photo. "I say Yumichika's in."

Nigel shook his head. "He makes the St. Pauli Girl look like Miss Universe."

Uryuu gagged and quickly looked to the other photos.

"Have we come to our conclusion?" Tyra asked, looking from Nigel to Miss Jay to Uryuu.

"I say Orihime wins it," Uryuu said, reaching for the nearest box of tissues from mere memories of the harem girl. He stuck one up a nostril, setting his glasses askew on his nose.

Nigel had tugged the photo of the French maid in the fishnet stockings out from the stack Tyra had. "Pass that box over here, will you?"

Tyra sighed as Miss Jay zipped the box of tissues past her on the table.

"I have to say," Nigel said, tapping the photo of Nemu that peeked out from the stack Tyra had, "if I had to pick someone to go home tonight, she'd be in the running. Her expression is so lifeless. Not model-like, not even nurse-like, and certainly not lifelike."

Miss Jay nodded, rolling his eyes. "She needs to work on her bedside manner."

Tyra took a deep breath. "Do we even want to consider Rukia's photo?"

Nigel shrugged as the photo was slid out of the stack. "Not much to look at; the strappy-look isn't good on such a thin figure. Maybe it's better Mr. Abarai took her out."

Tyra looked to each of them. "Are we decided?"

Everyone nodded.

* * *

Tyra waited until all the girls had assembled before her before addressing them. "Ten, well, nine without Yachiru -- who is still in the running -- nine beautiful girls stand before me. Tonight has been a night of unusual turns in the game. Still, the girl whose name I do not call must immediately return to the house, pack their belongings, and go home."

The contestants held their breaths, fingers crossing. Tyra smiled, clearing her throat, and then turned over the first photo in her hands.

"Orihime."

Orihime skipped down the runner, pink pantaloons and halter top bouncing as Uryuu reached for the box of tissues for fresh supplies.

"Congratulations," Tyra said to her. "You're still in the running to become The Next Top Model."

"Oh, thank you!" Orihime turned and went back into line.

Tyra called the next names. Rangiku, Momo, Nanao, Soifon, Yoruichi. Only Yumichika and Nemu were left.

"Will you both please step forward," Tyra said to them.

They stepped before her.

"Yumichika, you didn't play to your strengths, and Nemu, we just didn't see the life we needed to from you in this photo shoot.

"However, this has been a bizarre panel tonight. In the end, a judging was made, and so," she paused dramatically, and then handed them each the final two photos, "you're both still in. Congratulations."

Yumichika raised his hands in his imitation of a waist-up-only happy dance as Nemu stood motionless.

Tyra threw her hands up and giggled. "Yay! Yes, you're both in!"

"Thanks, Tyra!" Yumichika managed, nudging Nemu with an elbow until she spoke.

"Thank you."

Tyra waved to them all as they headed out the doorway. "So, everyone go on back to the house, and we'll see you tomorrow. Oh, and let us know if Yachiru isn't out of her sugar coma!"

And then there were nine.

* * *

**_Next Elimination: Still Doll Photo Shoot_**

**_Who's The Next Top Model? Poll is up!_**


	12. Meanwhile VI

Everything was starting to look familiar as Grimmjow wandered the beige halls of the studio. He frowned out over the two twenty-something men that hurried on when they spotted him, then remembered his purpose there, and put a lethal smile on his face that cleared the hall.

Grimmjow halted, looking at the vacant beige corridor. The place was a maze of halls. Worse than Las Noches.

He looked around at the closed doors and secondary corridors. He frowned at the water fountain at the wall.

He was sure he'd seen that same water fountain three times already.

He spotted a white-haired man up ahead. "Hey! You!"

Jay Manuel stopped his brisk walk and looked behind him at the call. He involuntarily flinched as Grimmjow's gaze settled on him.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you." Grimmjow advanced on Jay, who did as expected -- as was custom when one was approached by the large Number Six Espada -- and backed up a few steps.

Jay glanced around nervously, eyeing the Arrancar's unpleasant smile, which was minus the mask. "Can, can I help you?"

"Yeah. Who's in charge here?"

Jay nodded down the hall behind Grimmjow where a few people had trickled out of their offices, making their way hastily down the opposite way. "Well, that would be the --"

"How come I wasn't asked to be a judge?" Grimmjow jabbed a finger into Jay's black t-shirt that was dotted with tiny pink skulls.

"Well, that's not my decision," Jay said quickly, taking a step back with each jab.

"You think I can't do it?"

Jab. Jab. "I suppose you could. It's not my --"

"You think I have no eye for beauty?" Grimmjow demanded, leaning down to the photo shoot director.

Jay shrunk back. "I'm sure you do. It's just that --"

"You think I don't know a pretty girl when I see one?" Grimmjow growled.

Jay attempted a feeble smile. "Of course you do."

Grimmjow straightened and looked down the hall behind Jay as Tyra passed along the far end. Jay followed the other man's focus.

"See. She's pretty," Grimmjow said. "I think. I didn't see her face."

Jay looked back to him. "Of course she's pretty. She's absolutely gorgeous. That's Tyra Banks."

They glanced back at Tyra as she picked the wedgey from her tight orange hot pants before turning a corner in the hall.

"Not one of her more glamorous moments," Jay said without thinking.

Grimmjow grinned leeringly. "See. I know pretty."

"I'm not sure about that," Jay mumbled before catching himself.

"And that one," Grimmjow pointed to where Miss Jay Alexander was doing a prissy lumber in his periwinkle blue chiffon bridesmaid dress, trying to catch up with Tyra. "She's kinda masculine, but proportioned okay."

Jay frowned at him. "That's a man."

Grimmjow watched as Miss Jay disappeared around the corner. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Maybe she's just big boned," Grimmjow said in an uncharacteristically mild manner.

"Boned like an ox." Jay took a deep breath. "Why don't --"

Grimmjow turned on him. "I should be a judge. I got the mask removed, too." He struck a profile, showing off the new angle of his jaw. "Shaved real close just for it."

Jay nodded slowly, stepping back, wondering where security was. "Wow, that's some jaw line. I think --"

Grimmjow took a step toward him. "I had to sneak out of Las Noches just for this. Got a whole shirt, too." He pulled at his black Serush shirt. "See?"

"A _whole_ shirt?" Jay repeated skeptically.

"Yeah. Now why can't I be a judge?" he inquired, pointing a finger dangerously close to Jay's face.

Jay swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'll tell you what. I'll put you on the list and see what the producers say, all right?"

Grimmjow made his best smile, which was just as brutal as his worst smile. "Yeah. Okay."

"What's your name, pal?" Jay fished a small note pad and pen from his shirt pocket.

"Grimmjow Jeagerjaques."

Grimmjow hovered over Jay as he wrote the name. "No. One _g_."

Scribble.

"Not there. That's supposed to be a _q_."

Scribble, scribble.

"That's right."

"Okay." Jay nodded. "We'll let you know if you're needed, all right?"

"When?"

Jay smiled as best he could. "Soon."

"Okay then." Grimmjow looked down each end of the hall. "How do you get out of this place?"

Jay spied a security guard coming down the corridor behind the Espada and waved him over. "You know what -- Grimmjow, is it? -- I'll have you personally shown the way out. How 'bout that?"

"Yeah, okay."

"Good." Jay turned to the bulky security guard that had joined them. "Please show Mr. Jeagerjaques to the door, would you? He's leaving now."

"Sure thing, Mr. Manuel," the guard said, looking up at the Espada.

"We'll keep in touch!" Jay called as Grimmjow moved off with the guard. "Don't call us! We'll call you!"

* * *

**_Next Elimination: Still Doll Photo Shoot_**

**_Who's The Next Top Model? Poll is up!_**


	13. Still Doll Photo Shoot

Orihime cracked the boiled egg on the table in the kitchen of the house the next morning, oblivious to Yachiru's actions as they sat at breakfast. Momo shrugged uneasily at the conversation Yoruichi had been having with Rangiku and Soifon as the early morning sun streamed in from the wide windows.

"She did kind of look like she was wrapped in tape," Momo agreed after a moment as she forked a bite of French toast on her plate.

"I still wish she was here," Orihime said with a sigh.

They were up at dawn this time, Yoruichi with her tea and dish of rice, Yachiru with her bowl of Lucky Charms cereal, Momo and Nanao with the latter's famous French toast, and the rest with their own creations.

"We're all going, one by one," Yoruichi said with a sly smile. "Except for one of us." She looked to Yumichika whose gaze had been fixed on Orihime during the meal. "I thought you'd be out already."

He looked to her after a moment of watching Yachiru finagle her spoon into Orihime's bowl of cereal, stealing fruity marshmallows to put in her own bowl.

"Just because he's a man?" Rangiku said, lifting an eyebrow at Yoruichi.

The darker skinned woman shrugged, sitting back in her chair beside Soifon. "This competition is suited to women, and sooner or later he's going to fall outside the lines."

Yumichika frowned at her. "I'm already outside the lines."

Yoruichi's smile crooked at one side of her lips. "Are you sure?"

He scowled as Orihime's attention leveled on him, brown eyes wide. "Of course I'm sure."

Orihime finished peeling the egg and used a butter knife to slice it into her cereal. Yachiru gave her an intense frown and lost interest in the marshmallows in her bowl. She scooted away from the Living girl.

"She's just teasing you," Nanao said, sipping her tea as Nemu watched them all without expression. "I think you're brave, Yumichika."

"Hmm, yes," Yoruichi said, drawing up one knee to rest her heel on the chair, watching Yumichika begin to blush. "I didn't realize Captain Zaraki was so understanding about things like this."

Yachiru's face snapped around to look at Yoruichi, and then Yumichika. "Did Kenny say you could come, too? Did he have to sign your paper, too?"

There was a heavy pause, and then Orihime suddenly sprang up from her chair and darted into the living room.

"Tyra mail!" she called out.

Nanao shook her head. "How does she know?"

They all hurried into the living room hall where Orihime was hopping, waving the note from Tyra.

"Read it!" Momo said. "Quick!'

Yoruichi leaned over Orihime's shoulder, reading along.

"'So we've taught you how to put an outfit together, but there's more to a look than that. They don't call it the moneymaker for nothing. Be ready at eleven.'" Orihime looked around at them. "What does that mean?"

Nanao pointed to the bottom of the note. "White t-shirts and jeans only," she said, reading the fine print. "Maybe we're doing a commercial."

Momo groaned. "Like acting?"

Yachiru pulled the note down to her eyelevel with marshmallow-sticky fingers. "Do we get to dress up?"

Yoruichi glanced to the clock on the wall. "We've got three hours. Lots of time."

* * *

The contestants idled the morning at the pool and painting toenails. Even Yumichika found himself painting toenails, but the toes belonged to Yachiru, and the polish was ten different colors. By the time the limousine dropped them at the studio it was ten minutes until eleven, and Jay Manuel was waiting for them, dressed in blue stone-washed jeans and his favorite black and white checked Blue Homme shirt.

He watched them line up before him in the back studio where a sky blue screen was set up before cameras and lights, with a row of make-ups stations nearby. He smiled back at the contestants. "Hallo, ladies!"

"Hello, Jay!" they called back.

"Looking good. Everyone in their white tees. YesStyle is Asia's largest retailer to the fashionable youth in three countries. You've probably heard of them," he said with a beaming smile, "seen their lines. Fifty-Nine Seconds, Buden Akindo, Serush, Hosachi, Dodo. YesStyle is looking for new fresh faces for their website to highlight the top line products. Today you're going to give your take on those products." He pointed to a table set up behind him stacked with assorted handbags. "Each of you is to take a bag and use at least three of the products inside to create your own look reflecting YesStyle's lines."

A squeal went up through the contestants.

"Good," Jay said, preparing to move quickly out of the way. "There's a flip book of some of YesStyle's looks in each bag, too. You have ten minutes to create your style. Starting now!"

The contestants rushed the table in a semi-shunpo move that Jay never saw coming. Even Orihime nearly trampled him.

Yoruichi and Soifon reached for the same camel-colored Zecchino bag, crossing looks that warned _back-off_ to the other. After a second, Soifon relinquished the bag and grabbed another style.

Yachiru clutched a Rootote bag decorated with donuts, and Nanao a green winged Googims. After each had their bag, and Jay had recovered from the blur of contestants, he waved to get their attention.

"Ten minutes, girls! Put your best face forward!"

They milled over to the make-up stations and each contestant found a spot to set to work.

Yumichika paused at the last station, watching Yachiru jump onto the make-up station near him and dump the contents of her canvas bag.

"Ooh, look at all this, Yumichika!" She rummaged through the cosmetics and found a tube of lipstick, then hunkered forward to look at her face in the mirror. "Pink!"

Yumichika glanced down at his own bag, slowly pulling out the cosmetics. He didn't know what half of them were, and watching Yachiru wasn't helping any. He looked around the other side of the table's mirror to see Orihime at her station.

She was leaned over the table, lipstick in hand, drawing the red across her lips. Her eyes flicked to him as he watched. "Do you need to borrow a lipstick?"

"Uh...no."

He looked to Rangiku, who had the station beside Orihime's. He watched her apply a thin layer of mascara to her lashes, mouth gaping as she did. He quickly retreated to his own mirror before Rangiku spotted him. He sorted through the items from the bag, and then did a cursory investigation of the flip book.

Pretty girl, pretty girl, pretty girl, pretty -- man.

Yumichika frowned, glanced to where Jay was watching from the end of the make-up stations, and looked back at the man in the flip book dressed in casual jeans, white t-shirt, black leather vest, and charcoal fedora. He took another quick peek around the mirror to see Orihime inches away from her own mirror, making smoochie-pucker faces at herself. He looked to Rangiku, who was already looking at him.

"If I were you, Yumichika," the strawberry blonde said in a low tone, "I'd go with a little black eyeliner and some lip tint."

He frowned. "Lip tint?"

Rangiku shot a glance down the row of make-up stations to where Jay was watching Nemu precisely line her lips. Rangiku reached under the overhead light at her station and unscrewed one of the three bulbs so that there was a dark spot over her mirror.

"Oh, no," she said in mock surprise. "Will you look at that? Hmm."

"You can use my mirror," Orihime offered.

"Thanks, I'll just scoot over here," Rangiku said with a smile for the girl, and then rounded the stations to crowd Yumichika at his mirror. She looked at the accessories on his station table. She handed him the eye liner. "This one."

He looked at the black pencil. "And what?"

Rangiku gave him an exasperated look and leaned to the mirror. "Like this.

Yumichika followed her example and watched as she lined her eyes with a brown pencil.

"Under here, just a little, Yumichika, for that metro look."

He drew the black liner pencil below and through his lower lashes, poking the second eye. He slapped a hand over it. "Yow!"

Rangiku pulled his hand away. "Come on, Yumichika. It wasn't that bad."

He looked to her, one eye blinking, more blackened than the other.

She gave him a weak smile. "You look like Gackt with a black eye. Wipe part of that off."

"Two minutes, ladies!" Jay called out.

"Hurry," Rangiku said as Yumichika rubbed off the excess eyeliner. "Now some lips." She found a nominal shade of lipstick and handed it to him. "Just one coat."

Yumichika didn't have time to debate her. He carefully applied the transparent lip tint, pleased to see that it did little to change his appearance. "That didn't hurt."

"You need a third product." She sorted through the bag's contents, holding up a lipstick. "This one."

He shook his head. "It's red."

"It's coral. Not much. Just a dab."

"I'm not wearing lipstick."

Rangiku put her hands on her hips, making her t-shirt strain. "Hey, up here," she said when his eyes dropped to her shirt. "The make-up artist put make-up on you --"

"That's different," he said. "That's not me."

"If you don't use three products they might disqualify you." She glanced to Jay as he counted down the last thirty seconds. "Think of it as an enhancement, Yumichika. You've got twenty seconds. Just a little color. Right in the center of your lower lip. Not much."

Yumichika took the lipstick from her, frowning. "Enhancement."

"Yes."

"...Fifteen..." Jay's voice called out. "Fourteen..."

Yumichika took the top off the lipstick and wound it up half a twist.

"Just a fingertip," Rangiku prompted.

He nodded and patted a finger to the end of the coral lipstick and dabbed it on his lower lip.

"Viola! That should qualify," she said with a smile.

"Three, two, one. Time's up!" Jay held up his hands. "Everyone, products down, and line up. Let's see how you've done."

The contestants assembled, some of them giggling at Yachiru's overly done face that was more theater make-up than natural.

Jay walked down the line, nodding. "Good, good," he said, pointing to Momo's tastefully applied cosmetics. "Could go a little heavier on the lips, Momo." He moved on. "Need more white over the eyes, Soifon, to bring out that open-eye look YesStyle wants. Nanao, lovely. Nice hint of shadow to up-play the violet eyes."

He stopped before Yachiru, who batted her thickly mascara-daubed eyes at him, leaving Raggedy Ann streaks. "Too much, Yachiru."

The girl put her small hands to the two great red cheeks she'd enlarged with lipstick. "I like it."

Jay bobbled his head. "There can be such a thing as too much color." He continued on down the line, stopping before Yumichika. "A little underplayed, Yumichika, but a nice highlights. Rangiku, fresh, young, playful," he said to the woman beside Yumichika. "Orihime, a little much on the lips, but good eyes."

Jay stepped back and looked down the line. "All in all, not bad. Today's winner is," he raised an eyebrow as they all waited, "Rangiku."

"Yes!" Rangiku squealed.

Jay's assistant joined him with a large Zecchino bag that bulged. "Your prize is this bag of top products from YesStyle and Smashbox."

Rangiku took the bag he offered, smiling.

"Okay, you've got your fresh looks," Jay said, grinning out over them, "now we're going to change all that. Rangiku, if you'll open that bag you'll find a note from Tyra. Can you read it to the rest of the contestants, please?"

Rangiku found the note inside and read it aloud. "'Most people don't know it, but acting is a big part of modeling. Selling a product without actually talking can be one of the hardest challenges you'll come across, but with the help of some fabulous wardrobe and fierceness from within, I'm sure we'll all get the message.'" She frowned and looked to Jay.

He nodded, a mischievous smile on his face. "The next photo shoot is all about getting to your pose and holding it. Not quite vogue, but more than still life. Today you're going to represent a doll. And not just any doll," he continued as Yachiru hopped, smiling hopefully. "International dolls from the United Front Edition of the Bradford Exchange.

"Now, right behind you," he pointed to a curtained off area on the other side of the studio, "are your international dolls. You're to sell your doll -- the client's product -- by imitating the doll itself. That means looking, dressing, and acting like the doll. Find your name and doll, and then head on over to hair and make-up so the stylists can complete your look."

"And be careful with the dolls!" he added as the contestants charged to the other side of the room.

* * *

It didn't take long to find the dolls corresponding to the contestants, and after an hour in hair and make-up, the first was ready to pose with their international doll for the photo shoot.

The blue screen had changed to a backdrop of rolling green hills with a wide natural skyline with a superimposed stone wall. The first contestant up was Rangiku, dressed from green tam-o'-shanter on her head to black ghillies on her feet to match the Scottish doll she held. Her Highland forest green, black, and red plaid skirt was weighted with a tasseled sporran at her waist, topped by a white blouse with billowing white sleeves and cross-laced black vest.

She smiled back at Jay and the photographer.

"Ah, ready for the Highland fling, are we, Rangiku?" Jay said.

She nodded.

"Okay, the idea is to convey the doll to the camera. You can speak if you like, but we're not recording sound, so it doesn't matter what you say. Just sell the product, the doll, emulating the doll," Jay said, "and be sure to hold the pose, emphasizing the doll."

Rangiku nodded. She held the doll up beside her face, smiled, and then placed the doll on one hand palm up and gestured to it with the other. The photographer clicked photos.

"A little too boat show," Jay said.

"Boat show?"

"You know. Automobile show model, like '_This is the newest model of Chrysler'_," he said. "We're looking for you to be doll-like."

She frowned. "Lifeless?"

"Exactly."

Rangiku's face took on a drained look, eyes glazing over, unblinking as she held the doll stiffly to her shoulder.

"Uh, a little better," Jay said as the photographer snapped photos.

After Rangiku's rather lackluster shoot, it was Yachiru's turn, dressed as a little German girl to match her doll.

Which now sported a yellow plaid necktie over its smock dress and Normandy bonnet. Jay frowned at the attire.

"Yachiru, your doll is mixing cultures."

The girl nodded, making her stiff pink pigtails bounce over her starched white blouse. "She was boring."

"She's Bavarian, honey. Not boring." Jay attempted removing the yellow necktie from the doll.

Yachiru snapped at him as he tried to take the item. "She looks better with it."

Jay withdrew his hand. "She's not properly..." He stopped as Yachiru held up a second doll, this one made up to look like a Russian Matreshka doll, but minus an arm.

"Do you want to come over to my country and play?" Yachiru mimicked for the dolls, holding one in each hand so they could talk to each other. She shook the other doll. "I don't know. Let's play at my country. I have a pony."

"Yachiru, sweetie," Jay said, "give Yumichika his doll back."

A rift of laughter went through the contestants as they watched the photo shoot. Yumichika, dressed in a light blue sarafan dress with matching kokoshnik headdress, including a fake braid of hair, met Yachiru on the set and took the Russian doll from Yachiru, which she begrudgingly gave up.

Yachiru's photo shoot was completed with few good shots from which to choose, to be followed by Yumichika's shoot, which went a little better, despite his distaste for his dress and shoes.

The set was then changed to seascape and Nanao and Orihime had their shoots, representing France and Spain. It took a while for Orihime's, as she animated all her dialogue with the doll, and then the set was changed again to depict a sandy landscape.

Momo was the first out, decked to match her Kenya doll, colorful yellow and red skirt and top wrapped around her slender form, matching beaded doll in her hands.

Jay smiled at her. "Okay, Momo, we want to see you as the doll. That means vacant eyes and stilted poses."

She nodded, eyes shining despite his directions.

"Who would buy these dolls?" Orihime asked in a hushed tone to Nanao. "They're not much fun."

"They're collector dolls," Nanao said as they watched Momo give a perky smile, holding the Masai doll up to her face.

"Oh."

* * *

After Momo's attempt at looking doll-like, Yoruichi took her turn, followed by Nemu and Soifon. When the photo shoot was finished, they all headed back to the house for a few hours of downtime before the judging panel that evening.

Soifon and Yoruichi immediately settled around the pool at the back patio, catnapping before the judging to be held later. Nemu agreed to help Nanao practice her runwalk, and Momo made cupcakes in the kitchen.

Orihime was now alone in the pink bedroom, as Rukia had left at the last judging. She sat at the dressing table, scooted up close, making bland faces at herself in the mirror, cosmetics strewn on the table.

"I think I bombed on this shoot," she muttered to herself. She sighed. "Maybe for the --" She turned quickly on the stool to see Yumichika standing in the open doorway. "Hi!"

He stood stock still for a few seconds, returning a stony face for her bubbly attention as she waved before he realized he was being stared at. "Oh, hi, Orihime."

"Come in." She hopped to her feet and gestured to the four beds. "Not really any furniture in these rooms."

"I was just passing by, and I was... wondering..." His words stumbled to a halt as he studied her face. "How can you make it look so easy to be pretty?"

Orihime's mouth dropped open, but she immediately clamped it shut. "Oh, you're fooling!"

"No, I'm not." He looked sheepishly down the hall, and then stepped farther into the room. "Even when you were roaming around in Soul Society trying to pass yourself off as a shinigami you looked beautiful."

She blushed a deep pink. "Oh, that was .... You think so?"

"Yes."

Her eyes fell over his hair and face for a moment, and then she darted to him and grabbed his arm. "I know what. We'll redo you!"

"What?"

She shoved him down on the stool in front of the mirror.

"Rangiku already showed me how to use the eyeliner," he said as she stood behind him and held his head between her hands and made him face the mirror.

"Hmm." She frowned, turning his head to one side, looking at him in the mirror. "Nice profile. Good dark eyes."

"Why, thank you."

She studied him. "Nice chin. Not too sharp, no overbite. A little pale." She made him face forward again and used both hands to pull all his hair back from his forehead. "You shave really close, Yumichika."

"Oh, well..."

She reached over him and took the black eyeliner from the dressing table. "All celebrities wear make-up for photos."

"All?" He watched her nod in the mirror.

"Yup."

"Ooh! Make-over!" Rangiku's voice shrieked from the hall.

Orihime and Yumichika looked to the doorway, but saw no one. A few seconds later Rangiku came careening into the room with her Zecchino bag of cosmetics she'd won earlier in the day.

Yumichika found himself crowded between the two women as they hovered over him, each with an eyeliner pencil. It was Rangiku's turn to grab his head and shift it as she examined him in the mirror.

"I think a little bit of highlighter around the nose to help shade his mouth," she said, turning his head back to face the mirror as he tried to look at her.

"I think his mouth is fine," Orihime said, sharpening the black eyeliner pencil.

Yumichika watched the pencil tip come to a point. "I really don't want any highlighting."

"Nonsense." Rangiku fingered her side of his cheek. "Ooh, soft."

He frowned at her.

"You're right. Not a manly word. Smooth," she clarified.

Orihime leaned closer with the sharpened eyeliner. "Hold still."

Yumichika sat perfectly still as she made a light line of black at his lower lashes.

"See?" She looked triumphantly at him in the mirror.

"I don't know," Rangiku said, rummaging through her bag until she found a softer black pencil. "How about this?" She lined his other eye with the gray-black pencil and then looked at him in the mirror. "Less severe. Which do you think?"

Yumichika looked in the mirror at his newly lined eyes, considering each carefully. "I think I like Orihime's better."

"Hmph." Rangiku frowned at him in the mirror.

Orihime smiled and leaned over him to wipe off some of the gray liner and trace the black over his second eye.

"Now, how about lips?" Rangiku said, holding up a nude blush color lip tint.

"No," he said.

"Just a little," Orihime said.

"No." He shook his head.

"I smell strawberries," Orihime said suddenly, sniffing and looking to the doorway.

"Momo is making cupcakes," Rangiku said, burrowing through her bag again. She held up a tube of foundation. "Just a little highlighting around --"

"No," Yumichika said with determination, angling his head to one side. "I like the eyes this way."

"Me, too."

They all looked to see Yachiru sitting on the bed to Orihime's left.

Yumichika groaned. "How long have you been here?"

Yachiru stuffed another handful of MMs in her mouth. "I know you have a soft face."

Orihime, Rangiku, and Yumichika all looked back to the mirror.

"I think it's time I told her about my secret stash of jelly beans in the barracks," Yumichika said just loud enough for Yachiru to hear.

She was at his side in a flash, eyes wide. "Where?"

Orihime and Rangiku exchanged looks as Yumichika grinned.

"First you have to promise me something," he told the little girl.

She nodded. "Name it."

* * *

Tyra, Miss Jay, and Nigel had spent a full seven minutes staring at Ulquiorra at the end of the table in the guest judge's seat.

And Ulquiorra had spent those same seven minutes staring straight ahead at the doorway, waiting for the contestants to assemble at the other end of the room.

Finally Miss Jay said one of the many things on their minds. "Love your look," he said, waving a limp hand in Ulquiorra's direction. "So harlequin, without being amusing at all."

"Emo," Tyra said.

Ulquiorra looked across Nigel to Tyra and Miss Jay, his shirt zipped up high. "Quite the opposite."

"Oh? Hmm," she said, shrugging. "I thought that was the big look these days. All emo and vacant. Which you do well, by the way."

Uryuu shook his head at them. "It's the way he's engineered."

They all looked to him.

"Engineered?" Miss Jay said, patting his nine-pointed tiara. "Is that what they call putting together a look now?"

Uryuu chuckled. "Where he's from, yes, it is."

Tyra fanned herself with the stack of photos, making the beaded fringe of her hot pink off-the-shoulder cami -- size voluptuous -- dance at the movement. She stopped abruptly and looked to the doorway as the contestants filed in. She jumped to her feet and rounded the table, high heels scuttling as she smoothed her stretch denim jeans.

"Hey, hey, girls!" she sang as the nine contestants lined up. She smiled at them and recited the list of prizes to be won as winner of The Next Top Model, and then made a flourish to the judges.

"First, as you all know, is prestigious runway trainer, Miss Jay Alexander."

Miss Jay nodded and smiled, showing off his tiara.

"You know fashion photographer to the stars, Nigel Barker." She indicated the cameraman, who smiled at them in his usual manner.

Tyra turned to Uryuu. "Mr. Ishida, Tokyo's darling fashion designer this season. And, of course, this week's guest judge," she said, waving a bangled arm to the judge beside Nigel, "Ulquiorra."

The contestants collectively groaned at the sight of the Espada, but Orihime groaned the loudest.

Ulquiorra looked hurt.

Tyra smiled out over them. "Today you had to do what we've been telling you not to; go lifeless. Suck all the life out of your photos. Not easy, is it?"

The contestants all shook their heads, except for Nemu, who remained unblinking.

"Today you had to represent a doll. A lifeless replication of an international doll." Tyra lifted an eyebrow. "Let's see how you did."

She hurriedly took her place behind the table between Uryuu and Nigel. "First up we have Nemu."

Nemu stepped forward and took her place at the end of the carpet runner.

"Nemu did pretty well in the challenge," Tyra said with a slight nod as she looked to her fellow judges. "All right, Nemu, let's see your best shot."

A photo of Nemu dressed in a traditional Korean women's dress flashed onto the screen.

"Breathtaking," Nigel said instantly as he stared at the photograph. "You nailed the pose."

"I like the way you're holding the doll," said Tyra. "You're showing it off without it being too obvious."

"What is that type of garment called?" Uryuu asked, frowning slightly at the picture.

"It's a court dance costume," Tyra replied.

"Yes, but what is its name?"

"It's called the National Robe of Fierceness," Miss Jay said smoothly with a nod. "That's what it's called."

"Thanks, Nemu." Tyra flashed a smile at the girl before she returned to her place in the line. "And next up we have... Soifon."

Soifon came forward, looking not too happy, as usual.

"What nationality did you have to depict in this photo shoot?" Tyra asked as she sat up straighter.

"Mexican."

"Interesting," Tyra started, glancing at Miss Jay and Nigel, "considering that you're actually not Latina."

Soifon shrugged. "Nemu's not Korean."

"Okay." Tyra giggled, a bit fakely. "Let's see your best picture, Soifon."

Soifon's photo flicked onto the screen and Ulquiorra slovenly turned his head to look at it, but his expression remained as blank as ever.

"You look like one mean Mexican chick, that's for sure," Tyra said suddenly, adding an 'mm-hmm' at the end.

"It's certainly fierce," Nigel said, shifting slightly. "But I'm not sure if you're modeling or if that's just you."

"You really do look Mexican, though," Miss Jay said, waving a finger at the doll's miniature piñata dangling from a stick in its hand. "You've gotta give them stylists some props for that."

"Thank you, Soifon," Tyra said with a smile. "Next up we have Yumichika."

Yumichika came down the runway carpet, traces of eyeliner still visible, just enough to make Miss Jay sit forward a little.

"You had...?" Tyra said leadingly.

"The Russian doll," Yumichika said.

"Let's see your best shot." Tyra looked to the screen as a photo of Yumichika blinked on in full Sarafan dress.

"I've got to say," Nigel said, "this is a far better photo than the lingerie shot. Much more feminine, softer, and you look like you're more at home in it."

Yumichika nodded slowly.

"It's still a man in a dress," Uryuu said with distaste.

"But he's a pretty man," Miss Jay said, giving Yumichika a crooked smile.

"Thanks, Yumichika," Tyra said before Yumichika felt obligated to reply to Miss Jay.

One by one the contestants were called, their best shots shown, and then the girls were dismissed so the judges could deliberate.

Surprisingly, Ulquiorra spoke first. He pulled the photo of Momo dressed to match her African doll from Tyra as she separated it from the stack and began to comment.

"I thought this was supposed to be reflective of a lifeless doll?" He held the photo up to the light where Momo's bright eyes came alive in the photo. "She looks alive to me."

"A complete miss for the challenge," Nigel agreed.

Ulquiorra reached across the table and slid another photo out. "This one," he tapped the photo of Orihime in the red Spanish attire, "she's far too alive-looking. You'll never make her look lifeless, unless you killed her, and even then --"

"Hey! No one said they had to look dead," Uryuu snapped, pointing at the Espada.

Ulquiorra pointed at Tyra. "She did."

Tyra looked to each of the judges. "I said _go lifeless,_ not dead."

Ulquiorra shrugged. "Same thing. But she's too full of life to look anything but bubbly."

Uryuu was leaning across Tyra to see the Espada better. "Do you even know what bubbly means?"

"Of course I do." Ulquiorra nodded at the photo. "She's bubbly."

Tyra cleared her throat as Uryuu eased back into his seat. She raised an eyebrow at Ulquiorra. "And I thought you were going to be the strong, silent type."

"I am strong."

Nigel slid the photo of Orihime back to Tyra, but Uryuu reached for it. "She's one of my least favorite this shoot. Too full of energy, even in a still shot."

Uryuu's fingers pressed into the photo edges possessively. "She looks fine."

Tyra slid the photo of Yoruichi out. Nigel leaned closer.

"What about this one?" Tyra asked, cocking her head to one side. "Yoruichi, doing India. Beautiful eyes, but still able to look somewhat vapid," she said, considering the gold eyes that fell flat on the photo. Graceful pose with the scarlet sari and batik skirt, and she still manages to emphasize the doll."

"Not for me," Nigel said. "Too much life. And cat-like."

Ulquiorra glanced at the photo without much interest. "She's alive."

"She's got too much sparkle for me." Miss Jay waved a hand at the photo. "Them's golden eyes always follow me."

Tyra set Yachiru's photo on top the stack. "Here we have the original lightning rod. Yachiru. Jay Manuel said she wouldn't hold still for more than a second, and they still can't find parts of the dolls she used." She held up the photo of the pink-haired girl holding a German doll missing a leg.

"Like a possessed Heidi was Jay's exact quote," Nigel added, shaking his head.

Tyra set the photo to the side. "Nanao," she said, pulling the dark haired woman's photo out, depicting her dressed in full French ruffles and pleats, including the Normandy bonnet.

"So-so," Jay said without much interest.

"Moving on," Tyra said, presenting Rangiku's Highland photo. "What do we think of Rangiku?"

"A bit vacant in the face, but closer than most," Uryuu said.

Ulquiorra gave the photo a closer scrutiny. "That's Rangiku Matsumoto?"

Nigel nodded. "She's had some stunning photo work."

Ulquiorra nodded slowly. "Now I see what all the fuss was about."

They all looked at him, awaiting an explanation. He didn't offer any.

"All right, then," Tyra finally said, arranging the photos in the stack. "Are we agreed to the two weakest shots?"

"No," Uryuu and Ulquiorra said together.

Tyra looked from one to the other, and then said: "I think we are."

* * *

Minutes later, the contestants were back in the judging room, awaiting their fate.

"I have nine beautiful models in front of me, but only _one_ can be The Next Top Model," Tyra said. "There are only eight photos in my hands. If I do not call your name, you must go back to the townhouse, pack your things, and go home," she said slowly and deliberately as she looked over the row of contestants. She paused for a long moment and then turned over the first photo in her hand. "Nemu. Congratulations."

Nemu came forward and received her photograph.

"The judges thought your photos were the best, every single one of them."

Nemu recalled the appropriate response. "Thank you."

"Rangiku," Tyra said next, and said blonde approached.

After that, more names were called. Yoruichi, Nanao, Momo, Yumichika, and Soifon, each breathing a sigh of relief as they received their photos and stood to the side.

Only Orihime and Yachiru were left.

Tyra looked to each of them, as, behind her, Uryuu and Ulquiorra looked to each other, for other reasons.

"Orihime, Yachiru, please come down here," Tyra said. Orihime and Yachiru made their way down the carpet to stand before Tyra. "Orihime, we asked you for a simple face, one without expression, doll-like, and you gave us," she resisted the urge to look behind her, "bubbly."

Orihime's lower lip quivered.

Uryuu sat forward in his seat, frowning intently.

"Yachiru," Tyra said, addressing the smaller contestant, "shot after shot, you gave us too much energy. You practically buzzed, not to mention dismembering the client's product." Tyra looked from Orihime to Yachiru, and then slowly turned over the last photo. "Orihime, you're still in the competition for The Next Top Model."

Orihime took the photo, feeling a little guilty.

Uryuu nearly collapsed over the table.

Yachiru frowned. "I don't have a picture?"

Tyra forced a smile. "No, honey. This is your last photo shoot."

"I have to go home now?" the girl asked, pink brows furrowed.

Tyra smiled weakly. "Yes, sweetie."

"Oh." Yachiru looked to Orihime. "Okay. Bye!" She turned and skipped down the carpet, waving to Yumichika. "Have fun!"

"You, too!" He waved back. "Remember our deal!"

"I'll try!"

And then there were eight.

* * *

**_A/N: Next Elimination: Boris Vallejo Photo Shoot_**

**_Who's The Next Top Model? Poll is up!_**


	14. Meanwhile VII

It was a sunny afternoon as Gin made his way over to where Ulquiorra was standing as they watched Tousen throw peanuts into the pen at the zoo. They'd been there for ten minutes already, and the smell of the pen was getting ripe.

"What ya reading?" he asked, standing closer to the Espada.

Ulquiorra leaned away, turning the paper so Gin couldn't see.

"Aw, don't be stingy. What ya got?" Gin angled his head closer.

Ulquiorra held the paper away. "What do _you_ have?"

Gin held up the zoo flyer featuring Yachiru romping across the peacock yard in her pony gear from the Animal Instincts photo shoot. "Grand opening of the Peacock Pen." He tried to see what Ulquiorra was reading, but the Espada refused to let him. "Why ain't you back at Las Noches?"

Ulquiorra gave him a sharp look. "I don't want to be there when Halibel gets back."

"No one does, but someone should."

"She's going to be angry." Ulquiorra's green eyes went back to the paper, moving across it with candid appreciation.

"Yep, sure will. That's why you should be there. Make sure she doesn't tear up the place." Gin tried to peek over the paper, catching a glimpse of pink.

"Why me? Why not you?"

"I gotta judge. You're done. Go back."

"Lord Aizen is done." Ulquiorra almost grinned as he looked back at the paper. "Let him go back."

"I don't hear any chattering," Tousen called to them, frowning at the camels on the other side of the fence as he threw another few peanuts. "Are you sure this is the monkey house, Gin?"

"Yep. Keep feeding 'em!" Gin looked back to Ulquiorra in time to see more of the paper. His hand shot out as the Espada tried to move the photo out of reach. "Whoa, hey, where'd you get _that_?"

Ulquiorra tugged on the photo of Orihime in her lingerie photo shoot attire. "It's mine."

Gin pulled on the photo. "They're giving out souvenirs?"

"No." Tug, tug. "I bought it from a guy in the alley."

Gin frowned, pulling harder on the paper. "Let me see."

"Don't tear it!"

"Then let go."

Ulquiorra resisted for a moment, and then slowly let the photo ease closer to Gin, black-nailed fingers still tight on it.

Gin smiled broadly at the shot of Orihime in the pink harem outfit, caught while in motion as she danced around the bedroom set. "Ooh, nice." His eyes travelled over the pink curves she made in the skimpy attire. He chuckled. "Got any more?"

"No." Ulquiorra reclaimed the photo possessively.

"Did he have any others?"

"... Some."

"Who?"

Ulquiorra's eyes slid back to the photo, smile ebbing on his face, losing himself in the photo.

"Hey. Number Four," Gin said with more interest. "Who else?"

"... I don't remember."

Gin frowned at him. "Then what good are ya?"

A loud bray came from the camel pen, followed by a juicy heave-ho from a large female.

"_Ichimaru_!"

Gin and Ulquiorra looked to Tousen as the camel spat another mouthful into his carefully arranged hair.

"That is _not_ a monkey!" Tousen yelled, trying to slough off the slick goop from his hair.

Gin turned his back on Tousen as the man attempted to evade the camel reaching over the fence to close its rubbery lips on his shirt collar, pulling him closer.

"So, any of Matsumoto?" he asked Ulquiorra.

"Ichimaru!"

Gin waved off Tousen as the camel dragged him across the fence.

Ulquiorra shrugged, trying not to watch as Tousen struggled.

"Gin!"

Gin tried to get a closer look at the photo the Espada sheltered against his shirt. "How much did that one cost ya?"

* * *

**_A/N: Next Elimination: Boris Vallejo Photo Shoot_**

**_Who's The Next Top Model? Poll is up!_**


	15. Boris Vallejo Photo Shoot

The next day Orihime found herself -- under invitation -- moving into the lavender room with Rangiku, Nanao, and Momo, happy not to be in the pink room by herself anymore. After that it was a leisure breakfast before they congregated at the pool to engage in a pool volleyball game under the warm mid-morning sun that pitted the lavender room against Yoruichi, Soifon, Nemu, and Yumichika from the pink and green bedrooms.

The score was tied six-six when Orihime suddenly stood stock still on her side of the net in the water, tilting her head to one side, listening for something the rest didn't hear.

Soifon had just wound up for a lethal overhand serve, and completed the smack that sent the volleyball whamming into Orihime's forehead. It bounced off and shot back toward the net.

Orihime blinked, looking to the opposing team, the impact barely registering. She glanced to the house, and then bounded out of the pool and sprinted dripping through the sliding glass door at the deck.

"Hey!" Momo called, standing on tiptoe in the deep water. "Where are you going, Orihime?"

Nanao wiped at her glasses, which had acted more as a handicap in the pool than anything. "I'll bet there's mail."

Yoruichi crossed her arms as Soifon chased down the ball. "How can she always know?"

"It's those hair pins," Rangiku said, nodding to the house. "I'll bet they tell her."

Soifon tossed the ball to Yumichika, whose turn it was to serve, and was standing farther back than necessary on his side of the pool. He'd already bumped into Soifon's lime green swimsuit once, which proved annoying on both sides, and Nemu in her black one piece, which proved painful. He'd bumped into Rangiku, too, when they'd both reached to tip the ball over the top of the net, but that had just proved distracting on several levels.

"Tyra mail!" Orihime called from the deck, waving a gold and purple envelope.

A wet, mad scramble of swimsuits, wet bodies, and squeals made for the deck, sliding to a stop as they converged on Orihime. Yumichika decided to be the last to arrive, watching Rangiku's pink bikini backside as he went.

"Read it!" Momo cried, jumping up and down until she nearly wiped out before Rangiku caught her elbow to keep her on her feet.

Orihime danced from foot to foot in her yellow two-piece, splattering drops of water on the envelope. She ripped it open as Yoruichi hovered close. "'Sometimes in life, you get things thrown at you that you weren't expecting. The key is to learn how to handle it. Be ready at noon sharp, and we'll see who can 'work with their hands full' the best.'"

They all looked to each other.

"Like juggling?" Orihime wondered.

Soifon raised an eyebrow. "They're going to throw stuff at us to juggle."

Momo peeked into the house and let her eyes adjust from the bright sunlight to find the clock on the wall. "It's ten-thirty-five."

"Just enough time to dry off and get lunch!" Orihime said, and then split inside the sliding glass door.

The rest of the contestants followed her in, Yumichika tagging along.

* * *

Miss Jay and Jay Manuel stood watching as the contestants met them in the studio that afternoon where the raised runway was set up before the camera crew, Jay in his black jeans and heather gray t-shirt that read _DBSK_ on the front in black letters, and Miss Jay in his black leather pants and white t-shirt reading _Princess_ in pink, glittery italics. He was heavily accessorized with a pink feather boa and eight strands of Mardi Gras beads. Behind the Jays was a large box on a card table.

"Hallo, girls!" they greeted in unison.

"Hello, Jay!" the contestants called back.

Jay rubbed his hands together, smiling at them as they lined up, each in khaki capris and a white tank top. "Eight left. Only six of you will be going on to our secret location for our photo shoot semi-finals."

A squeal ripped through the girls.

"Today you're going learn about handling props," Miss Jay said with a flourish of the boa, waving it at them. "Not just a scarf or a hat as part of your outfit, but extraneous props."

"While doing your runway walk," Jay added with a grin.

Momo put both hands to her mouth, shaking her head.

"Is that a _no_ I see, Momo?" Jay asked, pinpointing her adverse reaction.

Momo dropped her hands and put a quick smile on her face. "No. No."

"Okay then." Jay spread his hands out as Miss Jay opened the box behind them. "Come on up as we call you, and you'll receive your prop."

Miss Jay opened the box, rubbing his hands together and laughing maniacally.

"Nanao and Soifon," Jay called.

Nanao hesitantly stepped forward, followed by Soifon, and met Miss Jay, who handed them each a walking cane.

"For you, ladies," he said.

They looked at their canes, and then went back into line.

"Yoruichi and Nemu," Jay said. They both came up and received long feathery boas in neon colors.

"Wear them in good health," Miss Jay said, bowing to each. Yoruichi glanced Nemu, who didn't seem impressed in any manner, as they went back into line.

"Momo and Yumichika," Jay called.

Momo and Yumichika approached the box to be handed large peacock fans big enough to hide half of Momo.

"My personal favorite prop," Miss Jay said with a smile.

Momo and Yumichika returned to line, each frowning at their fan.

"And finally, Rangiku and Orihime," Jay said.

The final two contestants met Miss Jay at the box, where he presented them each with pink vinyl umbrellas. "Stay outta the rain, girls."

Rangiku and Orihime looked to each other's umbrellas as they rejoined the line.

"Now, the challenge today is to interact with the prop while doing your runway walk," Jay said, looking out over them as they inspected their items. "That means eye-hand coordination, while your eyes are on audience, while you walk. Be creative!"

"No using the cane as a walking stick," Miss Jay added, "unless you're walking on your hands, girls."

"First up," Jay said as he was joined by his assistant with a clipboard, "is Nemu and her boa. Let's see some interaction, Nemu!"

Nemu went to the back of the runway with the neon yellow and chartreuse boa and started her stomp down it, swinging the feathery strip in circles so fast to either side in figure-eights it appeared to blur into a solid eight.

She stopped at the end of the runway, zipped the boa over her head, making Miss Jay pale, duck, and cringe, one hand on her hip as she leveled an unblinking look on them, still twirling the boa.

Jay looked to Miss Jay as the latter slowly stood up. "What are you ducking for?"

Miss Jay's face regained its normal coloring. "You weren't at panel when Rukia nearly took our heads off with her whip for the lingerie shoot."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh."

They turned back to Nemu. "Very good, Nemu," Jay said, nodding. "I didn't know anyone could move so fast. I didn't even see your arm move."

Nemu stilled the boa, quirked half a smile, and returned to the line with the other contestants.

"Next," Jay said, consulting his clipboard, "Yoruichi!"

Yoruichi wound the boa around her arms, draping it across her shoulders to hang from her wrists, and started down the runway at a brisk, angular walk.

"Too Ziegfeld girl," Miss Jay said, shaking his head. "So far it's Rockettes, without any leg action."

Yoruichi reached the end of the runway, turned her back, lowered one shoulder arm seductively toward them, giving a flirty glance as she did a Bunny dip, stretching out the other arm upward and letting the boa begin to fall on top of Jay's head before catching it with her lowered hand. She smiled and rose, putting a sway into her hips as she went back, the boa trailing behind her in quick flips.

"Okay ... okay," Jay said, clearing his throat. "That saved it."

Miss Jay nodded, blinking. "Yup."

"...Okay," Jay said again, still watching Yoruichi as she took her place in line. "Okay. Um," he looked to his clipboard. "Nanao, let's see you work that cane!"

Nanao looked down at the cane in her hands, still unsure what to do with it. She set out down the runway with an exaggerated flounce to her step, twirling it like a baton.

"Oh, good. Majorette," Miss Jay said dryly, yawning.

"Anything else, Nanao?" Jay asked as she reached the end of the runway near them.

Nanao frowned, and then flung the spinning cane toward the ceiling, where it tangled in the lighting cords, and stayed. She looked up, scowling at it, and then to the Jays after a moment.

"Sorry," she murmured.

"A bit too typical," Miss Jay said. "Exactly what one would expect from a cane."

Nanao gave him an intense frown and turned back down the runway, more attitude in her stomp this time.

"Next," Jay said, "is Soifon!"

Soifon looked to Nanao for a fleeting second, and then did a power walk down the runway to halt before the Jays.

"Not much going on there," Miss Jay said.

Soifon narrowed her eyes at him, and then looked to the industrial switches on the wall across the studio. She held the cane like a javelin, pulled back, and let it fly toward the wall to connect with one of the switch levers.

Half the studio went black.

"Oh, well ..." Miss Jay looked to Jay.

Jay looked to Soifon. "That's not exactly what we had in mind, Soifon."

"It's all I can come up with," she said crisply, crossing her arms across her chest.

Miss Jay sighed as behind them a maintenance man rushed to assess the damage to the lighting control. "Points for accuracy, though."

Soifon faked a smile at him, and then turned down the runway and returned to line.

"Never play darts with her," Jay mumbled under his breath as he looked to the clipboard. He brightened. "Next up, Orihime!"

Orihime was in the middle of opening and closing her pink umbrella. She looked up quickly, and then slung the open umbrella over her shoulder, spinning it. "'_Mou ichido anata ni aitai ima... _'" she said before breaking into song, doing a jaunty march from side to side on the runway toward them. "'_...sayonara. Ah ame ga yanda, Ah anata wa konai..._ '"

"What the hell is she saying?" Jay said to his assistant.

The younger man grinned, nodding in time to the tune. "_As For One Day_. Morning Musume."

"' _...no uranaigokko shitari_,'" she sang, smiling brightly as she spun the umbrella, closed it, threw it into the air, and snagged it with the other hand before it could reach the Jays. "' ..._sayonara koi fubuki._'" She paused, catching her breath. "Do you want the second verse?"

"Uh, no, that's enough," Jay said. "Singing, walking, and working the prop. Good job, Orihime."

"Thank you!"

"I think you used every inch of the runway, Miss Orihime," Miss Jay said. "Bravo."

Orihime smiled and trotted back to line.

Jay looked to his clipboard. "Next, Rangiku and her umbrella!"

Rangiku glanced at Orihime and then looked to the Jays. She walked halfway down the runway at a strut, and then did a high kick that sent a wedge sandal flying into the ductwork.

"'_It's raining men! Hallelujah!'"_ she sang out, doing a pronounced, jabbing walk toward the Jays, minus a shoe, hips swishing. "'_It's raining men!'"_ The umbrella popped out at them, nearly poking Jay's face before she pulled it back, smiling. "'_Every specimen! Tall, blond, dark, and lean! Rough and tough and strong and mean!'"_

"'_God bless Mother Nature,'_" Miss Jay joined in as Rangiku sang, grinning, hands waving over his head as he bopped in time. "'_She's a single woman, too...!_'"

Jay shook his head as the new duo finished out the verse, with Rangiku punctuating each beat with a pop of the umbrella.

"You go, girl!" Miss Jay said as Rangiku finished up. "Now that's the way to work a song!"

Rangiku smiled, and then turned on her heel and did a snappy walk back to line as a crewman met her with the sandal.

"You okay now?" Jay asked Miss Jay as the second man continued his soft shoe shuffle.

"You betcha, sista." Miss Jay nodded to Rangiku. "She's got rhythm, for a white chick."

"Okay, our final two." Jay looked to Yumichika. "You're up next!"

Yumichika started slowly down the runway, legs unbending together at knees in mock geisha style, holding the fan to either side as he went, gesturing gracefully with it. He paused at the end of the runway, snapping it open, giving the Jays a coy look over the edge. He flipped it over, catching it by the handle and proceeded to deftly work it in an expert manner before doing a deep geisha curtsey.

Which Miss Jay returned in like fashion. He pointed a limp finger at Yumichika as he rose. "I like that."

"So do I," Jay agreed.

Yumichika beamed back at them.

"Not a model-walk, but it put the emphasis on the prop. Good touch," Jay said.

Yumichika nodded and returned to line where Momo was nervously watching the Jays.

"Momo, come on down!" Jay called.

The small girl opened and closed her fan testily, and then did a cautious walk down the runway to the end. She paused, looking to the Jays.

"Static, Momo," Jay said with a sigh.

"I don't know what to do," she stammered. "Everything has been done. I don't think there's anything left."

The Jays looked to each other.

"She has had some competition," Miss Jay said fairly.

Momo suddenly flicked the fan open and held it atop her head Mohawk-style, looking to them expectantly.

Jay nodded slowly. "Still static, but passable, Momo. Now if you can follow that up with a knock-out walk, you're set."

Momo smiled, and then turned and did her killer walk back to line.

"Good 'nuff," Miss Jay called to her.

"Okay, you've all had your little prop demos, and I must say, interesting. Very interesting," Jay said. "You'll need that for the next elimination photo shoot later today. Now, for the winner of the prop challenge," he said, turning to Miss Jay, "drum roll, please..."

Miss Jay waggled a finger at the row of contestants who were eagerly waiting. "Yumichika. Come down here and get your prize, sista!"

Yumichika blushed a little as he went, feeling the seven sets of eyes boring into his back.

"Yours," Jay said as Miss Jay handed Yumichika an envelope. "A 50,000 yen gift certificate for Sniggle Boop's latest fantasy lingerie catalog."

Yumichika's smile dropped as he took his prize.

"Also in that envelope should be a note from Tyra," Jay said. "Can you read it for us?"

Yumichika found the second note. "'You can't always rely on the photo shoot director to have your back. Sometimes, you'll get stuck with something awkward in a shoot, but you've still got to make it work. To make it easier, just remember these three words: find the light.'"

Jay grinned back at them. "Starting now!"

* * *

The contestants were surprised to see Nigel Barker with Jay Manuel, clipboard in hand, as they gathered in the larger set of the studio fifteen minutes later. The camera crew was already set up before two sets, one to look like a medieval antechamber and the other a stark white screen that was splotched with gray and purple lighting behind a brown recliner. To one side the wardrobe section was curtained off near a row of hair and make-up stations.

"Hallo, girls!" Jay called as they lined up before them.

"Hi, Jay! Hi, Nigel!" the contestants answered back, a few giggling as they looked at the camera around Nigel's neck.

"With me today on the set is Nigel Barker, highly successful fashion photographer who has worked with the likes of our very own Tyra Banks," Jay said with a gesture to Nigel.

Nigel nodded and waved. "Hello, ladies."

"Today we're going to venture into lighting issues, and I'll let Nigel explain to you exactly what that means to you as models," Jay said, stepping back.

Nigel, smartly dressed, as usual, gave them all a casual smile. "Sometimes, as models, it's up to you to find the light in a shoot. Weather changes, dark corners, whatever the reason, it's up to you to find the light that best suits you at the moment so you don't have dark areas on your face. This can mean paying attention to skin tones on your body as well as your face."

Jay nodded. "One expert in the field of skin tones and lighting issues is Boris Vallejo, a noted artist for his work in the fantasy genre. Today we'll be using some of Mr. Vallejo's early works to help you find your lighting, emphasizing skin tones. Some of you will be working in pairs, some with props, and some alone. I'll call out your names and Vallejo works, and you can head to wardrobe and make-up for your looks." He looked to his clipboard. "Yoruichi, you'll be working off of Vallejo's artwork for _The Executioner_. Momo, you're going to be a _Barbarian Queen_, and your shoot will be with Rangiku, the _Red Amazon._"

Momo and Rangiku looked to each other in confusion.

"Nanao, you're going to be the lethal woman in _Hatchett_," Jay continued. "Nemu, you'll be doing a female version of Asimov's _Chrome Robot_. Soifon, you're going to be _Vampire_. And Orihime and Yumichika, you're going to be doing a shared photo shoot for _Vacation_." He looked to the last two contestants. "You are familiar with the movie, right?"

Orihime nodded immediately. Yumichika nodded more slowly, because he wasn't.

Jay put his hands on his hips and nodded. "Yoruichi, you'll be having your photo shoot first. Okay, everyone head on over to wardrobe and make-up, and we'll see what you can do with finding your lighting!"

Nanao looked through the racks of clothing until she found the hanger labeled "_Hatchett_". She picked it out, nodding approvingly at the deep purple silk dress. "Not too bad," she said as Soifon moved hangers from the other side of the rack.

"Aren't vampires in the dark all the time?" Soifon mused as she found a black dress with a tattered hem and plunging neckline. "How can I find the light in the dark?"

Nanao held the purple dress up to her chin. "Maybe that's the challenge."

Soifon frowned and pulled out the black dress. "Do you get a real hatchet?"

Nanao found the matching suede pumps from the rack below the dresses. "I don't know."

Beside them the rest of the contestants were rummaging through the rack, too. Rangiku, Momo, and Yoruichi found what little there was to their outfits. Momo winced at the leather bra and matching skirt of pleated leather.

"I can't fill this out," she murmured. "Is this Vallejo some kind of warped lingerie designer?"

"He's an art_eest_," Rangiku said as she found her own outfit, which resembled Momo's, except for the roomier bra portion and was dyed red leather. She frowned at the dangling bracelet cuffs. "This is from a book?"

"They all are," Orihime said, still searching the rack. "Fantasy. I guess this predates _Aragon_."

They all looked to Nemu as she found her chrome colored body sock and walked off with it.

Yumichika watched her go before looking back to the rack. He pulled off the hanger marked "Vacation - male". He smiled, and then looked to where Orihime had found the female counterpart.

* * *

Yoruichi was the first to stand before the medieval backdrop in front of the camera and Nigel. She was clad in only a gold girdle and matching strappy halter top, long-haired boots on her feet, butterfly blue makeup accentuating her eyes, her black hair falling down her back, a broadsword in one hand, and a prop decapitated head of an enemy in the other.

"Where do you want me?" she asked Nigel as he motioned for the lighting man to position a lamp closer.

"Where you're at is fine, Yoruichi," Nigel told her. "Now, you're showing a lot of skin in this session, but that doesn't necessarily translate as good lighting on your face. Try to keep the light on your face, but not on the wide spots."

Yoruichi gave him a pointed look. "What wide spots?"

Nigel put a hand to his cheek. "Sometimes the light hits the cheek and makes it look larger, lighter, and therefore wider."

"Oh."

"Now, just pose with the head, jubilant, victorious, but not quite gloating. Can you do that?" he asked as he raised the camera.

"Can I name the head?"

He frowned at her, then grinned. "Sure."

She looked to head and mumbled a name at it, and then raised it high and angled a daring pose that made the lights hit her gold halter top spot-on.

"Well, that's definitely an attention-grabber, Yoruichi, but the lighting also made your right thigh look huge," he said, then added quickly, "which it isn't. Let's see a few more with a little more bend in your knees."

It took only fifteen minutes for Yoruichi to get her fifty frames, most of which were excellent, making Nigel and two others in the crew pass around the boxes of tissues. After a short break, it was Momo and Rangiku's turn for their joint photo shoot.

Momo stood uncomfortably in her leather top and short pleated skirt, feeling lacking as she looked to Rangiku in a similar outfit, both with fancy gold bracelets snaking up their forearms, leather boots with shaggy tassels on their feet. They looked to each other for a long moment.

"I prefer katanas," Rangiku finally said, turning the wide broadsword with the leather wrapped hilt and fancy bronze cross-guard.

Momo nodded. "Shiro would be hot if he saw us like this."

Rangiku smiled, lifting an eyebrow. "He just might. He might even like it."

A rosy color washed over Momo's cheeks as Nigel waved them to the center of the set. He looked from Rangiku to Momo and back again. Lingering.

"Okay," he said after a moment, fidgeting with the camera strap as he looked over Rangiku's attire, "you're shooting a fight scene, but it's really not about the action. It's about keeping in the light, and not losing your face in your hair as you move."

Momo and Rangiku nodded.

"It's a little awkward with the props, but don't worry about the action too much. We're not looking for speed here, as this isn't video."

"What props?" Rangiku asked.

"The swords," he said.

"Oh? _Oh_. The _swords_ are the props," Rangiku said, nodding to Momo. "I see."

"We have a hundred frames to fill because this is a joint session, so let's see you find the light, girls," Nigel said, stepping back to give them some room.

Momo and Rangiku looked at each other for a moment.

"This goes against everything," Momo said lowly.

Rangiku shrugged, raising her leather halter a few notches, grinning mischievously. "Might as well have some fun with it."

Momo looked down at the sword, then to Nigel waiting with the camera. She launched at Rangiku with a "_Ha!"_ and a swipe.

Rangiku's sword caught Momo's blade mid air, and then the exchange began in full force. The camera crew took a collective step back as the two women moved across the medieval backdrop, alternately driving each other back in what appeared to them a genuine altercation, moving in and out of the best lighting, giggling almost as much as they were trading crosses.

After twice forgetting to take photos -- and Jay reminding them that this was acting only -- Nigel finally decided the one hundred frames were up. As was a box of tissues.

"Very good," he said as Momo and Rangiku lowered their swords, both smiling at him. "A little too realistic, in fact, but well done in fluidity and intensity."

"What about the lighting?" Rangiku asked, making a motion to holster the sword before recalling she didn't have a scabbard.

"Lighting? Oh, most of it was fine," Nigel said, sniffing. "Too bad these were only photos and not video. You made it look real."

Next came Soifon's vampire shoot on the set with the chair, which she posed around, striking vicious, convincing _bite-you_ threats with her temporary fangs, hissing for affect, the light hitting her eerily from behind until she looked half-rabid and half-banshee.

Nanao then claimed the chair, sitting deep in it, crossing her legs at the knees, and pulling the plum skirt up. In one hand was a revolver, barrel smoking, in the other hand a half empty glass of amber liquid. She looked back at Nigel and Jay, giving them an _I-did-it_ look.

After that the set was changed to a stark black drop and Nemu, dressed in her body smock of chrome nylon, stood in front of the camera and lights, almost every detail of her artificially created curves silhouetted against the dark as she waited for Nigel's direction.

He nodded at her, eyes moving over her proportions now in silver. "Asimov's _Chrome Robot_ is representative of artificial intelligence, and while there is no skin tone in this shoot, the nylon is reflective and will catch the light angles of your body in a similar manner."

"I understand," she said. "Do you want the pose as the artist rendered it?"

Nigel looked surprised. "You're familiar with Isaac Asimov's work?"

"Yes."

"I see." Nigel glanced to Jay, who shrugged. "Let's see it, Nemu."

She stood straight, raised her arms up, left stretched highest, right arm crooked, all fingers curled, tilted her head back and closed her eyes, letting a wistful look claim her face.

Nigel snapped the photo. "That's it," he said to Jay.

Jay looked confounded. "That's _it?_ One frame?"

Nigel nodded. "She nailed it perfectly. She doesn't need anymore. Vallejo himself would know it."

Jay looked back to where Nemu was still holding the pose, motionless. "She's almost blinding."

"She's scary how precise her movements are." Nigel looked to Nemu. "You're done, Nemu. Perfect."

Nemu lowered her arms and dissolved the pose, looking back at them with her normal poise. "Thank you."

"Okay then," Jay said as Nigel motioned for Nemu to leave. "Let's have our _Vacation_ couple."

Orihime looked to Jay with a feeble smile. "Yumichika's still getting his chest painted," she said, blushing pink.

From the other side of the set Yoruichi, now back in her khakis and white tank top, laughed as the male contestant made his way to where Orihime waited near Jay and Nigel. The rest of the contestants stood at the perimeter of the crew, watching, whispering, as the next couple readied for their photo shoot.

Orihime stood barefoot in her rumpled white spaghetti string tank top and jean cutoff shorts, her hair pulled back and tufted wildly over her eyes like she'd been in a war zone. Yumichika wore a pair of blue shorts, a tan shirt tattered and torn strategically over his chest. Orihime couldn't help but stare at what she could see of his chest between the torn shirt slits.

The make-up girl hurried over to them, a sponge in one hand, a spray bottle in the other. "Not done yet!"

Jay met the make-up girl as she reached Yumichika. "Nice job. Looks very muscled."

Yumichika's chest had been _enhanced_, darker make-up applied to make the ripples of muscle stand out better, more defined, appearing more built than he actually was. He hated it.

The make-up girl dabbed the cosmetic sponge below his pectoral as he flinched.

"It's done," he grouched at her.

She gave him an exasperated huff and sprayed the bottle at his chest. To his horror.

"Stop it!"

"We have to set the color," the girl said, giving him another squirt.

Yumichika flinched away, glaring at her.

Jay rolled his eyes. "Okay," he told the make-up girl. "He's done." He looked to Yumichika. "This is reminiscent of the movie poster, but we've taken some liberties."

Yumichika looked down at his drawn-on muscles that peeked out of the torn shirt. "Orihime said the man in the movie didn't look like this."

Jay chuckled. "Chevy Chase? No. The movie poster was a parody of the movie. Griswold's fantastical view of his life." He looked to Nigel. "Are you ready for them?" Nigel nodded. Jay turned to Orihime. "You both have to stay in the light in this set. Unlike Momo and Rangiku's shots, you'll be standing in the same spot, so there'll be less chance to move out of the light."

One of the crew brought over two banged-up suitcases with assorted clothing sticking out of the mangled sides. He set the luggage down and left.

"These are your props, Yumichika," Jay said. "One under your arm, the other by the handle in your hand." The crewman returned with a tennis racket. Jay handed it to Yumichika. "This goes in your other hand, raised over your head in triumph."

Yumichika frowned, taking the racket. "Triumph of what?"

Jay gave him a knowing look. "You haven't seen the movie, have you?"

"... No."

"Okay, this is a mock-up of Griswold's triumph of surviving his vacation." Jay gestured to Orihime. "This is your wife, and you've endured your two angsty kids and overwhelming circumstances on a vacation, and you're happy to be alive."

"Oh. Okay." Yumichika looked to Orihime.

She looked to Jay. "Where are my props?"

Jay grinned at her. "Your prop is Yumichika."

The two contestants looked at each other with equal embarrassment.

"How?" she finally asked timidly, blushing pinker by the second.

"He's your hero. Remember in the movie how Clark Griswold always imagined himself saving the day? Well, for these shots that's how you, Ellen, have to view him. Hero," Jay said. "Got it?"

She nodded slowly, looking to Yumichika, who noticeably swallowed.

She cleared her throat. "How am I supposed to handle my _prop_?"

A wave of giggling went through the contestants standing around the set. Orihime blushed a deeper pink, not looking at Yumichika, who was glowing red.

Jay raised an eyebrow. "Fawningly."

"Oh," she said slowly, frowning. "Fawningly..."

Under Nigel's direction, Orihime and Yumichika took their places in front of the black screen which now had images of the Grand Canyon and an amusement park superimposed on its surface.

Yumichika had one suitcase tucked under his arm, the other in the hand below, striking a stout Conan-style pose with his other arm raised overhead holding the tennis racket. Orihime stood at his side, both hands tentative on the torn shirt at his chest, blush still bright on her face, nearly every inch of her legs exposed beneath the jean shorts.

Nigel nodded. "Good lines, Orihime, Yumichika. Now, I need you to look at him with worshipping eyes. He's saved your vacation and you're happy to be his wife."

Orihime looked sheepishly to Yumichika, who still had one hand outstretched over their heads. She smiled and batted her eyes. He grinned at her.

"Not bad," Nigel said, snapping a few shots. "But you're not supposed to look at her, Yumichika."

He looked to Nigel. "Why not?"

"You're supposed to look to the camera. This is poster-style, so we need to see your face."

Yumichika looked to the photographer.

"And smile glibly," Nigel added.

Yumichika thought about the fingers on his chest, and smiled.

"Keep moving, Orihime," Jay directed. "Find some poses that show your best lighting, 'cuz Yumichika isn't going anywhere."

It took an hour to get the one hundred frames due Orihime and Yumichika, and by then nearly everyone on the set was exhausted, either from holding a pose or laughing. Finally the contestants wrapped up their shoot, and headed back to the house for an hour reprieve until panel judging.

* * *

"... sought by all the publishing houses," Nigel was saying to Gin that evening as they sat at the judges table awaiting the contestants. "Daw, Ace, Ballantine, even Marvel, Playboy, and Warner Brothers."

Gin sat in the guest judge's seat beside Nigel. "He didn't write _Star Trek_?"

"No. Of course not. Where did you get that idea?" Miss Jay asked from farther down the table as the prop's girl polished the eight points on his tiara behind him.

Gin straightened his black tie over his gray chambray shirt. "Nowhere." He looked to the doorway at the far end of the room. "When're they gonna get here?"

"They'll be here," Tyra said, squelching a belch that threatened to surface from the black leather corset her size large torso was poured into. "Are you sure you're up for this?" she asked Gin.

"Yep. I'm sure."

The props girl finished the tiara and quickly took her leave.

Down the table Uryuu was sending Gin a sour look. "Do you even know what's going here?"

Gin considered him for a long moment, sizing him up. "Yep. More than you do, Quincy-boy."

Uryuu frowned, and then his face lightened as the contestants filed into the room across the runway carpet.

Tyra jumped to her feet and made a beeline for the front of the table, her leopard print leather pants squeaking as she walked.

"Hi, girls!" she called, overly made-up eyes glinting at them.

"Hi, Tyra!" they returned, all wearing little black dresses and black pumps. Yumichika looked uncomfortable in his dress. Or maybe it was the shoes.

"Today you had your fantasy photo shoot, courtesy the work of Boris Vallejo," Tyra said with a smile. "Fun stuff, huh?"

A ripple of agreement came from the contestants.

"Good. As you all know, our very own Nigel Barker was your photographer today," Tyra gestured to said man, who waved to them. "Also on our panel is noted runway coach, Miss Jay Alexander," Tyra made a grand flourish to the man in the satin t-shirt and tiara.

Miss Jay pointed to each of the tiara tips in turn.

"Our rising fashion designer, Uryuu Ishida," Tyra continued, indicating Uryuu beside Miss Jay, "and lastly, our guest judge for the evening, Mr. Gin Ichimaru." She flipped a hand in Gin's direction.

Gin grinned back at the contestants, his eyes on one strawberry-blonde woman, who returned a smile to him. Tyra continued to describe the prizes to be won by becoming The Next Top Model as Gin's attention rested on Rangiku, who wiggled a few fingers of _hello_ at him from her place in line.

"Let's take a look at your work," Tyra said before scuttling back to her chair behind the table. "First up, we have Nanao. Come on down, and work that 'lil black dress!"

Nanao stomped down the runway, footsteps heavy yet deliberate, and stuck a pose at the end.

Miss Jay waved a finger at her. "_Fi-yace_ to the core," he said smoothly with a nod, then looked to Tyra. "I can tell this is gonna be good."

"All right, Nanao, let's see your best shot." Tyra looked from the raven-haired woman to the black screen, which was quickly filled with the photo of Nanao, who was sitting back in the armchair, with the glass of tequila in one hand and a smoking gun in the other.

"And I was right. What a surprise," Miss Jay said immediately, throwing in a _mm-hmm_ of approval.

"I think it's gorgeous," said Tyra, still looking at the picture. "Your face looks amazing."

"And you did something here that every good model should be able to do," Nigel started as he sat up straighter. "You found the light." He gestured towards the photograph. "You see how the light hits off the planes of your face? That's what we were looking for, and that's what adds to the beauty in this picture."

Tyra nodded. "I couldn't agree more."

Nanao allowed a slight smile to come to her lips.

"All right, thanks, Nanao," Tyra said. "You can go back in line. And," she paused, glancing down, "Soifon, you're next."

Soifon came forward, and after a bit of small talk, during which she ignored Gin, her photo flicked onto the black screen. In it, she was dressed as a vampiress, outfit complete with the jagged leather black dress and fangs, her long hair extensions that reached nearly to her waist.

"I can honestly say," Nigel said as he cleared his throat, "that this is the first time that we've seen your sexy side, Soifon."

Said Chinese woman didn't look affected.

"This is a pretty good picture," Tyra said, nodding slightly, "but I have to say, it seems little too predictable." She pointed at the photo with the pen in her hand. "The pose is too reminiscent of _Underworld_ and _Interview with the Vampire_."

Soifon's brow rose. "That's what?"

"Just try some more variety in your poses next time," Tyra replied pleasantly with a smile.

Soifon nodded.

"Okay. Thanks, Soifon." Tyra shuffled her papers. "Yoruichi, darlin', you're up next."

Yoruichi made a fluid walk down the carpet, silent, her lithe form bending the dress in all the right places. "I should have named the head after you," she tossed at Gin.

Gin frowned in confusion. Nigel chuckled.

"And you were?" Tyra asked leadingly as she looked at the dark-skinnned woman.

"_The Executioner_," Yoruichi said in a prickly tone, "but he was already dead when I got there."

Tyra twittered a giggle, and nodded to the screen. "Let's see your best shot."

On the screen flicked Yoruichi in her _Executioner_ garb, holding the prop head by the scruffy hair, her broadsword in the other hand.

"Looks good, the light hitting your face enough without being stark," Tyra said, nodding. "Thank you, Yoruichi. Now, let's see Nemu!"

Nemu came down the runway, her dark eyes sliding to where Gin sat, a subtle flash glinting in them for a fleeting moment.

"Ah, which work did you represent?" Tyra asked.

"Isaac Asimov's _Chrome Robot_, female version," Nemu said.

"Hmm, yummy," Miss Jay said, looking to the screen as Nemu's photo appeared.

"Good photo, strong silhouette," Nigel said, nodding and pointing to the screen. "This was the first and only frame. She got it in the first shot."

"Wow," Tyra said to Nemu. "One shot. You don't hear that very often."

Uryuu sighed. "With her you will."

Gin nodded, smiling.

"Very good, Nemu," Tyra said, looking out at the other contestants. "Now we have the sets. First up, Orihime and Yumichika."

At the last seat of the table Gin chuckled as the two contestants came down the runner. "Are you _serious_?"

Yumichika gave him a dirty look as he and Orihime stopped before Tyra.

"He's very good," Nigel said to Gin, who was snickering until his eyes disappeared into tight slits.

"Ha-ha-ha!" Gin howled, slapping the table.

Tyra looked back to the contestants before her. "So, you were the Griswolds." She smiled as they nodded. "Let's see the happy couple."

The screen changed to Yumichika holding the suitcases, arm raised with the racket, Orihime at his side, her hands braced on his chest as she looked at him with admiration.

"Ha!" Gin went into another round of laughter until he nearly convulsed, making the table shake.

Uryuu squinted at the screen. "Why does she have her hands on him?"

Orihime looked to him. "He was my prop."

Uryuu's eyes opened wider. "He was your _what_?"

"My prop."

Uryuu turned a livid shade of purple-red.

"I think it's perfect," Miss Jay said, nodding at the couple. "Better than the poster."

"Very good," Tyra said to Orihime and Yumichika as Gin made an effort at composing himself. "Now, let's see Momo and Rangiku!"

Orihime and Yumichika went back into line as Momo and Rangiku stomped smartly down the carpet in unison. They halted before Tyra, Momo with her eyes locked on the super model, and Rangiku with a smile and a nod to the end of the table.

Both Nigel and Gin waved back.

"That was for me," Gin said to Nigel, smile dropping.

"No, it wasn't," Nigel said back.

Gin frowned at him.

Tyra looked to each of the contestants. "You had a joint photo shoot in which you acted out a rather believable action sequence."

"Very believable," Nigel seconded. "These girls handled the props like they knew what they were doing. Too bad weren't making a video."

"Let's see your best shots," Tyra said, looking to the screen. On the screen flashed a photo of Momo in the heat of battle, her eyes still soft, part of her face shadowed. Next appeared a shot of Rangiku, more intense, eyes catching the light.

Gin leaned an elbow on the table, set his chin in his hand, grinning as his eyes traveled over Rangiku's photo. "I like it."

"Oh, yes, Rangiku caught the light exceptionally well today," Nigel agreed.

Gin frowned at him. "You don't have to notice so much."

"That's my job."

Gin looked from the photographer to Rangiku, grinning again.

"Excellent," Tyra said, nodding. "Good shots today. Okay, it's now time for the judges to deliberate. We'll see you girls in a little while."

* * *

After the contestants had left the room, the judges took another look at the photos on the table before Tyra.

Uryuu leaned over Miss Jay and pulled the one of Orihime and Yumichika out, frowning at it. "Why's she stuck with him? Why not someone else?"

Tyra looked to him. "The selections were made after considering each contestant's strengths and weaknesses, and we thought --"

"You could have paired him up with someone else," Uryuu grumbled, pouting at the photo.

"She did good," Miss Jay said. "Look at 'em together. They look natural, not contrived. His height, her shape -- the lines are there for model material."

Uryuu glared at him.

"What about Soifon?" Tyra said, finding the vampire photo. "Vicious!"

Nigel nodded. "It's odd with her. By the time you get a spark out of her it's all this violent energy."

Miss Jay nodded with all seriousness. "She speared out the lights today in runway. Use of props."

Gin drummed his fingers on the table, looking at the pile of photos. "Just the way she is. Let's see the rest."

Tyra slid Soifon's photo beneath the stack and pulled the one of Nanao out. "Talk about a femme fatale. This woman could kill you with a single look."

"It's been done," Gin said, nodding in agreement.

Tyra leaned across Nigel, holding the photo closer to the guest judge. "She's wearing a purple dress, sitting in a brown arm chair, smoking gun in one --"

"He's not blind," Nigel said to Tyra.

Tyra looked to Gin, squinting back at him. "Don't be rude, Nigel. He's just sight-challenged."

"He's not the blind one," Nigel emphasized.

Tyra quirked a frown. "You're not the blind judge?"

Gin shook his head. "Nope."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yep."

Tyra sat back in her seat. "Hmm. What do you think, Mr. Ishida?"

Uryuu was still mumbling at the photo of Orihime and Yumichika he held.

"Mr. Ishida," Tyra repeated.

Uryuu looked to her, then to the photo of _Hatchett_. "Oh, she did it, all right."

Miss Jay nodded. "Guilty."

Uryuu held up the _Vacation_ photo higher. "I don't think this is good at all."

Tyra raised an eyebrow. "You think Orihime should go home?"

"No! _He_ should," Uryuu jabbed Yumichika's side of the photo.

Tyra sifted through the pile of photos to draw out the one of Momo and Rangiku. "_Red Amazon_ and _Barbarian Queen_," she said while Nigel snapped the photo from her as Gin reached for it. "I guess you're not the blind one."

Nigel placed the photo before him. "These two worked well together in the shoot today."

"'Course they did," Gin said, trying to pull the photo out from Nigel's fingers.

Nigel held the photo to the table before him. "Not just the give-and-take in the action shots, but how they seemed to read each other, with Rangiku trying to stay out of Momo's light during the shoot."

"Yeah, yeah, nice," Gin said, frowning and trying to slide the photo closer. "Let me see it."

Nigel's hands anchored the photo before him to the table. "Momo's light here gets lost. Even with Rangiku looking out for her, she weaves too far from the lamps, angles her face away. Now, Rangiku looks flawless in most shots. Correct lighting, beautiful skin tones, lovely --"

"Yeah, we can see it," Gin said, two determined fingers on the edge of the photo.

"I'm saying she takes a great photo."

"I know what you're saying. Now shut up about it," Gin said, tugging the photo closer.

"Are you telling me my business?" Nigel asked heatedly.

"I'm agreeing with you." Gin edged the photo an inch closer. "She's gorgeous. Let me see it."

"Boys," Tyra said with a giggle. "There's enough of Rangiku to go around."

Both Gin and Nigel's heads snapped in her direction.

"Got your attention now, hmm?" she said, smiling. "Nigel, let Mr. Ichimaru see the photo."

Nigel let go of the photo. Gin pulled it closer, smiling down at it.

"And the _Chrome Robot_," Tyra said, pulling Nemu's photo from the stack. "Looks too much like an Oscar award to me. More shiny than good lighting."

"I agree," Miss Jay said. He and Tyra looked to the other judges, who were preoccupied with the two other photos. "As stunningly generic as Nemu's is, I still think Momo is on the lowest rung this shoot."

Tyra nodded, looking to where Gin still had the photo trapped beneath his fingers. Nigel sat with arms crossed beside him, miffed.

Gin tapped the photo. "Do I get to keep this?"

"Absolutely not," Nigel said before Tyra could speak.

Gin frowned and looked back to the photo. "How about just half of it?"

Nigel shook his head. "No."

Tyra sighed. "Have we come to our conclusion?"

* * *

A few moments later the contestants returned to their line at the end of the runway carpet, looking back at the judges table. Tyra stood before the table, a stack of photos in hand, looking out over the girls with a somber expression.

"Eight beautiful models in front of me, but only _one_ can be The Next Top Model," Tyra said dramatically. "There are only seven photos in my hands. If I do not call your name, you must go back to the house, pack your belongings, and go home," she said emphatically, looking over the row of contestants. After a long pause she turned over the first photo in her hand. "Nanao. Congratulations, girl."

Nanao put her hands over her mouth in surprise and came quickly down the runway.

"The judges thought your photo caught the light well, but still kept the chill of _Hatchett_."

Nanao smiled and turned back to take her place in line.

Tyra looked up. "Rangiku."

Rangiku took her stride down the runway to Tyra, throwing Gin a smile and wink, which he intercepted with a wide grin. Nigel looked from Rangiku to Gin, and then back to Tyra.

"Congratulations. You're still in the running for The Next Top Model," Tyra said. She called off the next few names, Yoruichi, Orihime, Yumichika, Nemu.

Only Momo and Soifon stood at the end of the carpet. Tyra called them down to stand before her.

"Momo, Soifon," Tyra said in turn, "today it was all about staying in the light. Soifon, we asked you for energy and warmth, and even in the light all we get is a cool glint. Momo," Tyra turned to the smaller girl, "your fellow model stayed out of your way, and you still couldn't find the light. Both of you have so much potential, but one of you will be leaving tonight." Tyra turned over the last photo of Soifon. "Congratulations, Soifon. You're still in the competition."

Momo frowned, lower lip quivering. "Okay," she said barely audibly.

Soifon looked to her with atypical softness, and then put a consoling arm around her for a quick hug. Momo smiled back at her.

"Bye!" Momo called to the other contestants as she turned back down the runway. They all waved, calling their goodbyes, Rangiku sending her a sad smile.

"Hey, nice shot with the gum!" Gin called after Momo as she reached the doorway.

She looked to him, slowly smiling.

And then there were seven.

* * *

**A/N: Next Elimination: Y Chromosome Photo Shoot**

**Who's The Next Top Model? Poll is up!**


	16. Meanwhile VIII

"Rock, paper, scissors!"

Three hands jammed into the middle between Ikkaku, Hisagi, and Kensei at the back alley behind the studio. Theyd been at it for days. Days and days.

Ikkaku won.

Hisagi groaned. "Again!"

"Rock, paper, scissors!"

Four hands jutted together, the top one with small fingers in five different shades of nail polish.

Ikkaku looked to the top of Yachirus pink head as she hovered over their hands. "Hey! When did you get here?"

"Do I win?" She looked at him with a fruity-smelling smile, the wad of cotton candy in her hand angled so that it stuck in Kenseis face. "What do I win?"

"What are you doing here?" Ikkaku asked as they all retracted their now sticky hands.

Yachiru gave them a small pout. "Tyra doesnt have any more pictures of me. I'm out."

Ikkaku's bald head grew hot, frowning intensely at her. "It's just a stupid contest, anyway. You're still the cutest one in there."

She smiled at him. "I don't want to go back to the Division yet. I want to go to the zoo."

The three men looked at each other.

"Well, uh, we're kind of in the middle of something here," Kensei said, pushing the cotton candy out of his face and looking guiltily to Ikkaku and Hisagi.

Hisagi grinned at Ikkaku. "You don't want to do this anyway, so why don't --"

"Okay, we'll go by ourselves!" Yachiru jumped in place as Momo joined them with a wave.

"You're out, too?" Hisagi said to her.

She nodded, smiling meekly. "But it was fun."

"Oh, well, in that case ..." Hisagi glanced over her pink tank top and orange shorts for a moment. "That's kinda cute, Momo."

She smiled wider.

The alley door to the studio opened and Jay Manuel looked to them, grinning as he approached, then spotted Yachiru and Momo. "Oh, hi, girls."

"Hi, Jay!" they returned automatically.

Jay looked to the men, nodding at their hip urban attire. "We're ready for you."

Ikkaku, Hisagi, and Kensei traded uneasy looks, and then collectively looked to Yachiru and Momo. "Well, we're a little ..." Kensei began, scowling and reddening just a little.

"We need you now," Jay said, hands on his hips.

"We're going to the zoo," Yachiru chirped, grabbing Momo's elbow with sticky fingers. "Bye!"

Hisagi, Kensei, and Ikkaku waved and watched the two small figures leave out the alley before looking to Jay.

"We're still deciding who gets to go," Ikkaku said.

Hisagi chuckled. "_Gets_ to go?"

_"Has_ to go," Ikkaku corrected, returning a pointed look.

Jay shook his head. "Oh, no, gentlemen. We need all three of you. Come on. We have to get you fitted."

Hisagi and Kensei traded grins. Ikkaku tried to feign disinterest.

They all followed Jay inside.

* * *

**_A/N: Next Elimination: Y Chromosome Photo Shoot_**

**_Who's the Next Top Model? Poll is up!_**


	17. Y Chromosome Photo Shoot

Yumichika wrapped a towel around himself and hurried back to his room before anyone could see him in the hall. The yellow bedroom was empty -- Nemu off to the first floor already -- and he was glad to have a little solace for himself. Living in a houseful of women, regardless how beautiful, could be wearing at times.

Besides, there'd been no hot water left for his shower, but it wasn't the first cold shower he'd taken.

Probably not the last. Most were by choice. Some out of necessity.

He sat on his bed, which was made precision-style with hospital corners, even at the early hour, and leaned against the wall with the catalog that was beneath his pillow.

Sniggle Boop's Fantasy Lingerie Catalog.

He grinned and turned to the first section, Womens. He'd seen some of the costumes already -- worn one -- and remembered fondly the Pirate Wench, Harem Girl, and French Maid. He flipped to an ear-marked page of colorful costumes, even as the Pirate Wench herself appeared in his open doorway.

"Ooh," Yoruichi purred, smiling at the catalog, "pick out anything yet?"

Yumichika closed the catalog as she sidled up next to his bed, still wrapped in her own pink towel, her hair half dried and hanging in clumps on her back.

"You lied about the water," he said, scowling, convincing himself that was the thing to do. "There was no hot water left."

"Mm. Sorry." She smiled wider and crawled across the bed to him, making him hope no one was getting an eyeful from the doorway.

He glanced to the hall, but no one was there.

She settled next to him, the warm brown skin of her arm pressed beside his paler tone as she sat Indian style. "Are you cold?"

"No."

"Mm. Okay. Catwoman!" She snatched the catalog from his unmoving hands as she spotted the Batman section of lingerie. She gave the costume her full attention.

Yumichika cleared his throat, realizing parts of him were cold, and starting to react. He positioned the lilac towel over himself better. "Where's Soifon?"

She waved a hand at the door, gold eyes still on the black catsuit in the catalog. "Changing the litter."

He looked appalled.

She looked to him and giggled. "Just kidding, Yumichika. A joke. Lighten up." Her eyes went back to the catalog.

"Oh."

"Wow. Cuddly," Rangiku said from the door, still in her own pink towel, which covered a little less than Yoruichi's towel. "I've got the dress code." To Yumichika's horror, she crossed the room and sat on his other side, reaching over to pull the catalog closer to her, on top of him.

"I'm looking at something," Yoruichi said to her, hand tight on the catalog.

"Share a little," Rangiku said, tugging.

"Hey, uh, let's just --" Yumichika started.

"We were looking at it first," Yoruichi said testily, frowning at the taller woman, not relinquishing her hold. "Wait your turn."

"Don't be selfish."

"I think there's sake' in the kitchen."

Rangiku's eyes narrowed. "I've got a can of tuna with your name on it, fur ball."

Gold eyes glinted. "Ash cat."

Fearing the cat-fight of the century, Yumichika grabbed the catalog and held it to his chest, realizing he was probably in one of the more enviable positions any man would crave. After a few moments of wiggly fingers, both women released the catalog and sat back against the wall.

"So, what were you looking at?" Rangiku asked smoothly, smiling at Yoruichi.

Yumichika lowered the catalog to his lap as both women looked to the open pages.

"Ooh, film-themed." Rangiku nodded, her nearly dry hair bouncing in his face as she looked at the pages. "For you?"

"No." He flipped the page to the Wonder Woman section.

"Oh. Someone else?" Yoruichi nodded at the lingerie costumes. "A woman?"

"... No," he said.

"A man?" Yoruichi asked, raising an eyebrow, smiling.

"No!"

"Not a man and not a woman," Rangiku said, flipping a page to see The Matrix themes. "What's left? Oh, for yourself."

"No." He flipped a few more pages, feeling his face heat.

"For someone else?" Yoruichi frowned at the page. "Those dusters cover absolutely everything."

"Leave a little to the imagination," Rangiku said, hitching up her slipping towel.

"But do you want something for yourself in a man or a woman's style?" Yoruichi asked him, ignoring Rangiku.

"Not for myself." He fidgeted as Yoruichi grinned at him suggestively.

"We're out of options, Yumichika," Rangiku said, sitting back against the wall. Her blue eyes leveled on him. "Who were you looking for?"

"... just looking. That's all."

"Just looking?" Yoruichi giggled. "At the women?"

"Of course at the women!" He snapped the catalog shut as a shadow darkened the doorway.

"Gaa!" Orihime gasped, one hand flinging over her eyes as she saw them. Her face was vivid red in three seconds. "Ugh, I was ... just going to say ... say there are muffins in the ..."

"Kitchen?" Yoruichi filled in.

"Yes." Orihime, fully dressed already in denim shorts and a pink tank top, peeked between her fingers. "I didn't know you were all ... here ... busy." With a mumble, she left quickly down the hall.

They all three looked after her.

"Muffins," Yoruichi said. "It doesn't smell like muffins."

Rangiku nodded. "Not really."

"Tyra mail!" Orihime's voice rang out down the hall.

A rush of pink towels sprang from the bed as Rangiku and Yoruichi departed.

Yumichika breathed a sigh of relief, and tucked the catalog under his pillow before joining them.

Orihime already had the purple and gold envelope open as Nemu, Yoruichi, Soifon, Nanao, and Rangiku crowded around as Yumichika joined them. "'The industry may be hot, but that doesn't mean the set will always be. Remember: models sometime have to fake it to make it, or they'll be left out in the cold.'"

Everyone looked around at each other.

"Should we wear cold weather clothes?" Nanao asked, frowning.

"And boots?" Soifon added.

Orihime's eyes dropped to the bottom of the note. "It says to be ready at eight-thirty."

They collectively looked to the clock on the wall. "Twenty-minutes," Nanao groaned. She looked to Orihime. "Pack up the muffins!"

* * *

Jay Manuel met the Hummer limousine as it circled before the ski lodge partway up the slope of Mt. Fuji. He was dressed in a black and gray ski jacket and pants, grinning as the contestants stepped hesitantly out of the Hummer and stood shivering before the expansive Alpine style chalet resort.

"Hallo, ladies!"

"H-Hello, Jay!" they called back, teeth chattering.

"Cold?"

"Y-Yes!"

Most were dressed in jeans, pullovers, and sneakers, and they were cold.

"Today we're doing a shoot for the new Naketano ski wear fashions, so everyone head on in to the resort's Sakuranbo Lounge and find your wardrobes before you freeze up!"

A mad dash of shivering contestants rushed past Jay and into the resort, crowding past the few guests and camera crew inside, to find the lounge off the main lobby.

Inside were two racks of Naketano ski wear, and within moments the contestants had found their jacket and pants outfits. Most were in color block patterns of pink and white, baby blue, white, and yellow, and blue, black, and white, and matching snow boots in black, white, or camel colored, trimmed with fake fur, complete with Isotoner gloves.

"We're ready for you," Jay's assistant called from the lounge doorway. They all followed him out.

Within ten minutes they had reassembled in front of Jay at the back of the resort where the evergreen and birch trees contrasted sharply against the snowy bank behind, with the camera crew setting up in the noonday sun.

Jay smiled out over them as they looked at the snow machine that was doing a testing blow of large-flaked snow against the trees to add to the few inches of snow already on the ground. "Everyone warmer now?"

"Yes, yes!" they sang back.

"Good." He rubbed his gloved hands together. "Naketano is looking to show up their newest ski wear line, so we're going to do individual shoots of you all against the trees. I want you to show off the coat. That's the main product here. The pants, boots, gloves -- all secondary. The winner of this shoot will get a very special prize, so show us you best poses, flattering the jackets. Ready?"

"Yes!" the contestants squealed.

"Good." Jay glanced to the cameraman and photographer, who both nodded at him. Jay pointed to Yoruichi. "You're up first."

Yoruichi smiled and stepped before the cameras and photographer as the other contestants fell back. She unzipped her jacket of blue, white, and yellow, exposing her red turtleneck beneath, her hair high up in her typical ponytail. She held one side of the collar up to her face, winking at the photographer. She pivoted sideways and arched her back, angling one hip out, giving the camera a flirty look.

"Very good," Jay said. "Let's see a little more wholesome shots. These are jackets, not boudoir wear."

Yoruichi finished her set, providing snow angels in the fine snow until Jay made her stop, with a few shots that would give the viewer pause as to exactly what was being sold.

Next up was Nemu, who executed ten spot-on poses of standard winter shots, and then it was Soifon's turn, who wore a jacket similar in design to Yoruichi's. Her stilted, pucker-friendly poses only emphasized the difference in modeling style when compared to the darker-skinned woman's fluid poses, and it left Jay shaking his head.

"Just goes to show that it's not the clothes that make-or-break the shot," Jay said in a low tone to his assistant. "She never exudes any warmth."

The assistant nodded.

Next up was Orihime in her pink and white jacket, who proceeded to try to make a snowman with the snow the snow-machine had provided, and then Yumichika in his black, blue, and white color-blocked jacket, striking L.L. Bean quality poses that proved he was in the wrong competition.

Finally Jay pointed at Nanao and the dark-haired woman stepped before the camera and photographer.

"Have fun with it," Jay said as the sun beat down on the set, making some of the snow melt even as the snow-machine chucked out more flakes.

Nanao looked to the small snowman Orihime had made, and then back to Jay. "Do you want another snowman?"

"No. Just have fun in the snow -- but no snow angels," he said quickly.

Nanao dropped to her knees and scooped up a big armful of snow and threw it into the air over her head at the same moment the snow machine coughed out a large spasm of flakes at her. The photographer snapped away.

Jay nodded. "Excellent, Nanao," he said as the snow fell around her.

When Nanao had finished her set, Rangiku took her turn before the cameras. Her pink and white jacket was only zipped halfway up, unable to surpass her bosom to go any farther.

Jay frowned as Rangiku stood before the cameras, tugging at the zipper that threatened to split. "Don't jam it," he said, even as the zipper stopped.

She frowned at it, pulling gently at the lodged tab. "It's stuck."

Three of the crew -- all male -- rushed to help Rangiku with the zipper. Jay sighed. "Back here, fellas. We'll shoot around the ... Just leave it open. We can't see much of the zipper, anyway," he said.

The crew returned to their positions, and Rangiku proceeded with her photo shoot, producing several good shots, a few mediocre ones.

Jay nodded with satisfaction as the last shoot ended. "Okay, ladies, great job. Now head on in to the lounge room and get warmed up with some hot cocoa, and we'll announce the results of the photo shoot shortly."

All the contestants made a beeline to the resort, except for Rangiku and Nanao, who were mumbling over the taller woman's zipper.

"... one little pull," Nanao was saying as Jay walked up to them. Rangiku's fingers slipped off the zipper pull.

He shook his head, grinning. "Can you even see the zipper, Rangiku?" he asked as she fingered the pull.

"No. I haven't seen most of my zippers," she said with a sigh, pushing on her chest to attempt seeing the trouble spot.

"Let me try." Nanao gave a few tugs on the stuck zipper, to no avail.

Jay waved it off. "Don't worry about it, Rangiku. We'll get you cut out."

Before he was finished saying it, three of the crew appeared out of seemingly nowhere with scissors. Nanao gave the closest one a sharp look and took the scissors he offered.

Rangiku sighed, frowning, watching what little she could see of Nanao cutting the jacket along the zipper. "Do I have to pay for this coat?"

"No. We'll get you something a little more tailored for the next shoot," Jay said as the jacket gave way under its burden when Nanao had finished cutting. "You girls go grab some cocoa and I'll meet you in there after I see the frames."

* * *

Orihime was already at the bottom of her first cup of cocoa when Rangiku and Nanao joined them in the lounge before the mammoth field stone fireplace. The contestants hovered around the flaming warmth as one of the resort servers walked among them, offering hot cocoa and mini marshmallows to all, giving Yumichika a slow look.

"I don't understand," Yoruichi said, blowing softly on her mug of cocoa as she sat before the hearth with Soifon. "Snow angels are about as far away as you can get from hootch."

"Not the way you were doing them," Nanao said as she sat in a sack chair with her cup of cocoa, the color still in her cheeks.

Yoruichi shrugged. "It wasn't video; only stills, so I paused."

"Perhaps you should have paused with your legs together," Nemu said.

They all looked to her.

Rangiku nodded, taking a cup of cocoa from the server. "It would have been more angel-like."

They all looked to Yumichika, who was in the middle of swallowing his cocoa.

"What do you think?" Nanao asked him, slightly amused. "Was it hootchie, or angel?"

Yumichika gulped down the hot liquid and the mini marshmallow that had floated into his mouth. "I don't know."

"You don't know? How can you not know?" Soifon asked pointedly.

"I wasn't watching that closely," he said, taking another drink.

"Come on," Yoruichi prodded. "Even Eleventh Division knows hootch when it sees it. Don't they?"

"Of course we do."

"It can't all be about fighting and battle," Yoruichi said, smiling at him.

"We know that."

"He's here, isn't he?" Nanao said. "Of course he's about more than fighting."

"I miss Tatsuki," Orihime said out of the blue, sighing as she sipped her second cocoa.

"Everyone get warmed up?" Jay said suddenly from the lounge doorway, clapping as he looked at them.

"Yes, Jay!" they chorused.

"Good. Our next elimination photo shoot is going to be for the sponsor Chapstick, the makers of lip balm the world over."

A squeal ripped through the contestants, echoing off the bamboo walls.

"We'll be taking still shots of you all, individually -- well, almost individually -- in winter settings, showcasing Chapstick's foremost product, lip balm. And for the winner of the Naketano jacket photo shoot there will be an extra shoot. So, you guys want to know who the winner is?"

Everyone nodded, giggling with anticipation.

"We had some good photos to choose from, but the best goes to Nanao," he said with a flourish to the woman.

Nanao's violet eyes opened wide, and she remembered to swallow her cocoa before blurting out, "Me?!"

"Yes, you," Jay said, grinning as she leaped to her feet. "As the winner, you get to shoot a commercial for Chapstick."

Nanao made a high-pitched squealing sound that made Nemu cover her ears.

"And you get to bring two friends with you to shoot their own commercials, too," he finished.

Nanao looked at the other contestants huddled around her with mugs of cocoa in their hands, eager faces turned in her direction. "Uh, I guess ..." she looked to each in turn, " ... I guess Rangiku. And Orihime."

Two more squeals broke the air.

Orihime was on her feet, hugging Rangiku as she rose, before moving on to Nanao.

"There's more, ladies," Jay said, smiling at them. "Today the commercial will be filmed with male models."

Rangiku squealed. Nanao looked shocked. Orihime was halfway through her squeal with Rangiku when she stopped and let it end in an uneasy twitter.

"That's good," Rangiku said, smiling and nudging the other two. "It'll be fun."

Yoruichi sent a sparse look to Nanao, then rolled her eyes.

"Just them?" Yumichika asked, verifying.

Jay nodded. "Only Nanao, Rangiku, and Orihime will be shooting commercials with the male models. There will be other still shots for the rest of you later."

Yumichika sagged in relief, finishing off his cocoa.

Jay clasped his hands together. "So, I need Nanao, Rangiku, and Orihime to come with me now; the rest of you relax with the cocoa until we do the still shots later, got it?"

"Yes, Jay," they called.

Nanao, Rangiku, and Orihime followed Jay out of the lounge.

* * *

The Range Rover carrying the three contestants and Jay Manuel stopped before the clearing on the mountainside where the camera crew and photographer were already set up an hour later that afternoon. The area was separated into three sets among the crew, equipment, and make-up trailer, one set with a snowman, one featuring a snowmobile, and one with a short toboggan tethered in place on the steep slope.

Jay stepped out of the Range Rover and let the contestants out from the back seat. "Ladies, we've got perfect light and weather. Each of your commercials will be shown to the judges, but the live action qualities will not count. Only the still shots will be judged."

Nanao, Rangiku, and Orihime nodded. The two shinigami looked to each other.

"Something feels familiar about this," Rangiku said in a low tone as they followed Jay to the sets.

Nanao nodded. "But I can't place what."

Orihime smiled. "Maybe Ichigo is a model!"

They stopped with Jay at the cameras as they met the crew, photographer, and Jay's assistant, Rangiku in her second jacket, also a pink and white Naketano, with alterations that let her zip it up just enough to clear her cleavage, because there was only so much the wardrobe woman could do with the same amount of fabric. Rangiku was glad for her yellow turtleneck.

"Okay, ladies," Jay began, turning to them as they paused before the toboggan set, the assistant at his side with a few papers. "We're going to shoot three separate commercials, featuring each of you with a different male model, in different sets."

"Where are they?" Rangiku asked, looking around the clearing, putting a hand to shade her brow in the bright sunlight.

"They're getting ready. Now," he continued, "Orihime, you're going to be on the sled, Nanao, you've got the snowmobile, and Rangiku, you get the snowman."

"The snowman is my male model?" she asked, voice thick with disappointment.

"No, sweetheart. He's a real man."

"Oh, good."

"Orihime, you're going to be up first with -- oh, here they come now," Jay said, making a waving-over motion to the make-up trailer. "The make-up artists from Smashbox and Chapstick are going to ..."

Jay said more, but Nanao, Rangiku, and Orihime had stopped listening somewhere along the line, once the male models became recognizable as they neared. The contestants stared back at the less-surprised Hisagi, Kensei, and Ikkaku as the men approached and stopped before Jay.

" ... no cue cards, so it's important for you to remember your lines," Jay was saying as the six models stared at each other.

"Them?" Nanao finally stuttered, gaping at the men.

"Those are the models?" Rangiku said.

"What's wrong with us?" Hisagi wanted to know, now minus his scars and tattoo.

"Do you have a problem with this?" Jay asked no one in particular.

"No," Nanao said slowly. "No. Not a problem ..."

Rangiku's smile crooked at one corner of her mouth. "No problem, Jay."

Orihime's face had drained of color, but was now regaining some pink. "Okay."

"Good." Jay rubbed his gloved hands together. "Orihime, you're first, with -- Ikkaku, is it?"

Ikkaku nodded, wearing a Naketano jacket in diagonal black and red designs, standing akimbo in his black boots.

The color came up in Orihime's face. "Me?"

"Yes. You've got the toboggan, so head on over to make-up so they can find you a hat," Jay said, handing her a paper with her commercial lines on it.

"O-Okay," the Living girl said, moving off to the trailer, stepping a little faster when she realized Ikkaku was following her.

"Kensei," Jay said questioningly.

The man in the black, teal, and white ski jacket nodded.

"You've got the snowmobile with Nanao."

Kensei glanced to said woman. "The Lisa-looking one?"

Nanao sent him a jagged look. "I am not Lisa."

Jay nodded slowly. "Nanao, you can practice your lines until it's your turn in make-up."

Nanao took the copy of her lines from Jay and tried to outdistance Kensei as he trailed her to the snowmobile set.

Jay looked to Rangiku and Hisagi, who were already looking at each other. "That leaves you, Rangiku, with Hisagi and the snowman."

She nodded, arms crossed at her chest, one finger tapping at her elbow. Hisagi, wearing a Naketano ski jacket in black, blue, and white, grinned at her.

Jay gave her the paper with her lines on it. "You two are going last, so you've got some time. I'll see you then."

Rangiku's eyes narrowed at Hisagi as Jay made his departure to the toboggan set. "What are you guys doing here?"

"We're male models," he said, grin widening.

"Oh? How long have you been moonlighting as models?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, looking to where Orihime was coming out of the make-up trailer. "It's kind of spur-of-the-moment."

" ... I see."

He looked to the snowman. "This might be fun."

Rangiku leaned closer, getting a better look at him. "Where's your tattoo, Hisagi?"

* * *

Jay nodded as Orihime stood beside the toboggan with Ikkaku. "Very good. Nice choice of hat, Orihime."

She smiled, fingering the cat ears on her orange Kyo _Fruits Basket_ hat.

"What about my hat?" Ikkaku asked, shuffling uncomfortably in the boots.

"You don't get a hat."

"I'll get cold," he said.

"You're not actually sledding, Ikkaku," Jay said as the camera man and photographer gave him a thumbs-up. "No wind-chill. You look tough without a hat. Your charm point."

Ikkaku scowled more intently.

"Right," Jay said, motioning to the toboggan. "Orihime, you're in front, Ikkaku behind. Now, the sled is going to be pulled back a foot, then released. It'll stop, and Orihime hops off, comes smiling up to the camera, says her lines, uses the Chapstick, and we have a commercial. Any questions?"

"What do I do?" Ikkaku asked.

"Just sit there," Jay said. He looked to Orihime. "Ready?"

She nodded.

The sled was pulled a foot up to the stake where it was anchored by a rope, with a second rope buried beneath the snow, held by crewman who remained out of camera shot. Orihime sat at the front, Chapstick in hand, Ikkaku looking slightly miserable sitting behind her, boots to either side in the snow.

"We've got some glare," the photographer said to Jay, tapping his head.

Jay waved over the make-up girl. "Just some dusting."

The make-up girl nodded and went to the sled with her equipment.

"What're you doing?" Ikkaku demanded as the girl dusted his shiny head with a powder puff of loose beige powder.

"Just taking the shine off, handsome," she said.

"Agh! Stop it!"

He batted her hand away as she applied another dusting.

"That's better," the photographer said.

Ikkaku mumbled something none of them wanted to hear.

Jay nodded at them as the photographer crouched near him. "Good lines. Ikkaku, you need to put your legs in the sled."

"Where?" he asked, making Orihime flinch as he sat cross-legged behind her.

"No, put your legs alongside hers," Jay directed.

"What?" Ikkaku snapped.

"Uncross you legs from behind her and put them on the sled alongside hers in front of her," Jay said precisely.

A moment of awkwardness, clumsy leg movements, snow clods in Orihime's hair.

Orihime's face was now crimson, glowing, as she held the reins of the toboggan, Ikkaku close behind her, growling.

"Perfect," Jay said. "A little less severity, Ikkaku. Okay, better. When the sled is released, it'll stop, and then Orihime comes over to the camera and delivers her lines. Ready?"

Two nods.

The sled was released, it moved forward a foot, jerked to a stop, and Orihime popped up so fast her head cuffed Ikkaku's chin, bringing an '_oof_' of pain from him as she headed to the camera.

She zipped the tangerine flavored lip balm across her lips, smiled, and said, "Even after a cold afternoon of snow my lips stay kissable soft with Chapstick!"

Jay watched through the monitor set up behind the cameraman, nodding. "Very good, Orihime. Perfect execution. Only thing, when you got off the sled you popped Ikkaku in the mouth, and we need to shoot that part again."

Ikkaku looked to them, one hand on his mouth where he'd bitten his tongue. "The-then?"

"Yes, again. Orihime, get back on the sled and we'll get another take," Jay said.

Orihime mumbled a '_sorry'_ as she scooted in position in front of Ikkaku on the toboggan, legs were rearranged, and the sled was pulled back up the incline a foot.

"Okay, ready when you are," Jay said to the crewman with the rope.

The sled was released, it lurched forward, the post rope snapped, and the toboggan headed down the steep mountainside, gaining speed, a cry of glee coming from Orihime, a below of dread from Ikkaku as the sled got smaller and smaller.

"Oh, shit," Jay muttered, watching for ten minutes, as were the camera crew, until the sled was nearly out of sight, stopped by what appeared to be a small tree in the distance. He looked to the snowmobile on the other set where Nanao was sitting, rehearsing her lines as Kensei stood nearby. "Does that thing work?"

The cameraman shook his head. "It's just a prop. No engine."

"Oh."

They watched as Orihime and Ikkaku slowly got off the sled, dusted themselves off, and looked back up the incline.

"They seem okay, don't they?" Jay said to the cameraman.

The cameraman angled the camera to the figures farther down the mountain, zooming in on them, watching for a moment. "Yeah. They're okay."

"Good." Jay sighed. "We'll wait for them to walk up. I think the footage we've got is good. She delivered the lines perfect. Let's do Nanao's set."

* * *

While Orihime and Ikkaku started on the mile trek up the mountainside, toboggan in tow, Nanao was settling into position on the snowmobile. The light was still good, and Jay wanted to get all the commercials filmed before the sun cast the shadows across the mountains the wrong way.

He looked at Kensei as the man straddled the snowmobile, causing Nanao to inch forward on the seat. "Don't worry about the snowmobile, we'll plug in the sound later for the commercial. Nanao, you hop off the snowmobile, come up to the camera, use the product, and deliver your lines. Okay?"

She nodded, squirming as Kensei sat behind her.

"Okay, Kensei, put your hands on Nanao's hips, and when she --"

"What?" Nanao said in surprise. "Why?"

Jay gestured to them. "You're out snowmobiling, having fun in the snow, as a couple, and you stop to do the commercial. That's the way the commercial goes, honey."

Nanao simmered for a moment, flinching as Kensei's hands came about her hips.

"Just hold still a minute," he mumbled as she fidgeted.

"You're pinching."

"Sorry." He changed his hold, receiving an elbow into his stomach. "Agh!"

"You're tickling!"

"No, I'm not!"

Another handhold, another sharp elbow.

"Ugh! Lisa, stop --"

This brought Nanao around to face him. "Lisa? I'm not Lisa!"

"Sorry..."

"Forward, please, both of you," Jay said, running a hand through his hair.

The models turned to face him.

"Okay. We'll start again," Jay said. "Happy faces, Nanao, Kensei."

Kensei's hands went back to Nanao's hips, feeling her tense, but no elbow this time. They looked stonily to Jay.

"I don't see happy," Jay said as the camera rolled and the photographer clicked photos. "Let's try it the other way. Kensei, you in front, Nanao behind."

Nanao was off the snowmobile in a heartbeat, climbing behind the man before Kensei had a chance to move up.

"Scoot," she said, pushing on his back.

"I'm going."

Positions arranged, Jay nodded. "Put your arms around his waist, pretend to come to a stop with the snowmobile, and then, Nanao, you hop off and come over to the camera for your lines."

Nanao frowned at the back of Kensei's head, and then made a half-hearted attempt at putting her arms around his waist.

"A little more enthusiasm, Nanao," Jay directed.

Nanao reached a little farther.

"More," Jay said with a sigh.

Kensei grabbed both her arms and tightened them around his waist, making her squirm and use several four-letter words when his aim missed.

"Let me off!"

"Let's just get this right, and then --"

Nanao wedged a knee into his back. "Off!"

"Lisa, it's --"

"Ugh!" Nanao freed one arm and slapped him in the back of the head with her hand, which loosened the other arm. She stomped over to the camera and gave it a glare, then smiled, applied a layer of cherry Chapstick to her lips and said, "Even after a cold afternoon of snow my lips stay kissable soft with Chapstick!"

Jay put his hands on his hips. "Okay. Not bad, Nanao, but we can't use much of the snowmobile shot."

She threw a dark look to where Kensei was rubbing the back of his head. She looked back to Jay. "Aren't we going to be judged on still shots anyway?"

"Well, yes, but most --"

"Can I be done already?"

Jay read the severity in her eyes, and nodded. "You can be done already."

* * *

Orihime and Ikkaku were two-thirds of the way back up the mountainside when the camera crew and photographer got into position at the snowman set where Rangiku and Hisagi were ready for their photo shoot.

Jay looked back at them. "So far, we haven't been able to get through the whole shoot," he said as they awaited instruction. "I don't see the snowman giving us any problems, so we'll see. Now, you're having a snowball fight, chase each other around, have fun with it."

"That's it?" Rangiku asked.

"That's it. We'll improvise as you go. No snowballs to her face, Hisagi."

Hisagi nodded.

Rangiku looked to the male model. "Will his make-up come off if his face gets wet?" she asked with more than a little amusement.

"No," Jay said.

Hisagi frowned at her.

"Okay," Jay said as the cameraman and photographer nodded to him, "let's go!"

Hisagi scooped up enough snow for a good-sized snowball and flung it at Rangiku, hitting her right where the jacket zipper was straining across her chest.

"Nice shot, less force," Jay called as Rangiku made a snowball of her own and threw it, catching Hisagi in the ear.

She dodged behind the snowman to avoid two return snowballs, and peeked out in time to get the third in her turtleneck. Hisagi grinned as she scooped up a snowball and fired it at his covered tattooed cheek, followed by another, and then his world went white.

Next thing he knew he was on his back in the snow, Rangiku sitting on his chest, grinding snow into his face with more intent than he thought he deserved.

"... Rangiku! Rangiku, honey, not so much force," Jay directed as the woman hovered over the male model with a face-washing that would have shamed a hockey player. "Enough!"

Rangiku sat back on Hisagi, looking to Jay. "Enough?"

"Yes, let him breathe."

She looked down at Hisagi, who was grinning up at her through snow and wet. She picked the snow out of her hair.

"Now kiss him," Jay said.

She looked to the photo shoot director. "What?"

"You heard him," Hisagi said, grinning wider as her attention turned back to him.

"Kiss him," Jay called.

Rangiku looked down at Hisagi as she felt his hand move to her hip. She half smiled and wiped the snow off his face, then grabbed the blue of his ski jacket, pulled him up and planted an impactful kiss on his mouth.

Then let him drop. She was off him in a flash, even as he was still flopping back into the snow, making her way to the camera with a curvy sway of a walk, smiling. She cocked her head to one side before the camera and drew the watermelon Chapstick across her lips.

"Even after a cold afternoon in the snow my lips stay kissable soft with Chapstick!" she said.

"Okay, that's good, Rangiku," Jay said, nodding as he looked at the camera's monitor. "Nicely done." He looked to where Hisagi still lay in the snow. "That's a wrap!"

"Again?" Hisagi called back hopefully.

"Nope, we got it."

Rangiku smiled at Jay, then looked to the slope where Orihime and Ikkaku appeared. "Hey, they're back!"

Ikkaku was half dragging Orihime by the wrist, the toboggan rope in the other hand, bald head shining and face beet red.

"Are we done?" he panted, trying to catch his breath, dropping Orihime's wrist. She sank to her knees, then to her back, wheezing.

"Almost," Jay said as he met them. "We've got the drive back to the resort, and the final still shots." He looked to Orihime. "Is she okay?"

Ikkaku nodded, panting.

"What happened to your eye?"

Ikkaku frowned through what was becoming a blackened eye. "We hit a tree, and I bounced off the back of her head."

"Oh." Jay waved over the medic from the trailer. "Are you okay?"

Ikkaku scowled. "I heard my skull crack."

* * *

Back at the resort, over a few rounds of hot cocoa, the remaining contestants had their still shots with the male models. After an initial period of maladjustment on the contestants' part, they were back in the resort's yard, lights and cameras set up to take twilight shots of Nemu, Soifon, Yoruichi, and Yumichika.

It was the last contestant, and Ikkaku, who posed the strangest pairing. The bickering, if it could be called that, had started as soon as Hisagi, still half-dazed from the snowball fight shoot, had done still shots with Yoruichi and Soifon, separately, and moved through Kensei's by-the-book shots with Nemu.

"This is where you've been hiding?" Ikkaku nearly spat when he found his voice, glaring at Yumichika as the other contestants had their shoots.

Yumichika frowned at him. "Why not? And I'm not hiding."

"A beauty pageant?"

"It's more than beauty; there's poise and acting, too," Yumichika defended as they sat in the Adirondack chairs out of earshot of Nemu and Kensei's shoot.

"Tell me you're not gay," Ikkaku nearly begged, wiping a hand over his newly sunburned scalp, grimacing.

"I'm not gay. You know that."

"They must think you are. Why else would they let you in?"

"It's beauty, Ikkaku." Yumichika looked to where Jay was trying to coach some emotion out of Nemu. "I thought you'd understand. You're my best friend."

"Blood brothers, not _buddie_s."

"I know that."

"And all them," Ikkaku gestured to where the other contestants were watching Nemu and Kensei's photo shoot, "they're all okay with you being here?"

"Why not?"

"You're a _man_! That's why!"

Yumichika frowned as Orihime and Soifon looked their way. "They don't hold that against me."

"They don't hold ...?" Ikkaku scowled. "They should. Where do you stay?" When Yumichika just stared at him, unanswering, Ikkaku said, "In the house. Where do you sleep?"

"In my room."

"Alone?"

"No. Yachiru was there, up until a few days ago."

"And now? Now you're alone?" Ikkaku pushed.

"No. Nemu's there."

"... Oh." Ikkaku shrugged. "I'm not sure if that counts or not." He peered closely at his friend. "Is that eyeliner?"

Yumichika tilted his head away. "All celebrities wear some enhancement, Ikkaku. Everyone knows that."

"Enhance..." Ikkaku shook his head.

Yumichika frowned at him. "You're wearing eye shadow."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. Only one eye." Yumichika moved closer for a better look.

"Hey, not so close. It's a black eye."

"Which is why I'm here!" chirped the make-up girl out of seemingly nowhere again. Without warning she whipped a cosmetic sponge out of her bag and moved in on Ikkaku.

He sat back in the chair as she closed in. "Now what? Glare again?"

"No. Cover up that redness." She looked at his eyes in turn. "Powder some of that bruise, too."

Yumichika buried a chuckle as Ikkaku succumbed to being dusted and sponged.

"Yumichika, Ikkaku!" Jay's assistant called, rushing up to them from the set where Nemu and Kensei were finishing. "We're ready for your still shot."

"Together?" they said in unison.

"Yes. Now."

* * *

Elimination judging the next morning was at eight, giving the contestants enough time to have a quick breakfast before the limousine picked them up.

They assembled before the judges table, all in black t-shirts that had the words _Ski Naketano_ emblazoned in blue across the front, key chains of Chapstick dangling from the belt loops of their jeans.

Tyra, size full-figure now, stood before the table in her own Naketano t-shirt and stretch jeans, accessorized with gold chains and large hoop earrings.

"It's nice to see you all so perky this early in the morning," Tyra said brightly, smiling from ear to ear as she looked over the contestants. "You ready for judging?"

A chorus of "_Yeahs_" came from the competitors.

"Well, first let's introduce our judges. There's Nigel Barker, noted fashion photographer," Tyra said, gesturing to aforementioned photographer.

Nigel nodded towards the contestants and smiled. "Hello, there."

"And next we have runway coach, diva extraordinaire, Miss Jay Alexander," Tyra said.

"Hey, girls," Miss Jay said with a slight lilt to his tone, tapping his sparkling tiara.

"And, as always, we have fashion-fledgling super-star, Mr. Uryuu Ishida."

Uryuu could only muster up a half-smile as he raised his gaze to look up at what remained of the contestants, pinpointing Orihime.

"Last but not least, we have the enigmatic Mr. Kaname Tousen," Tyra said a bit too cheerfully for everyone else's liking. She gestured to the man at the end of the table. "Everyone, please welcome him."

Her request was met with silence.

"Well, anyway, let's get on to our prizes and the judging." She repeated her usual recitation of prizes The Next Top Model would receive, smiling grandly at them, and then cleared her throat and quickly took her seat. "This week you all shot print ads for flavored Chapstick. Some of you actually filmed commercials, but for this week's panel, we'll be using the still photos from everyone's shoots as what we'll be judging off of." She paused, then settled deeper into her seat. "Okay. Nanao, you're up first."

Nanao allowed a slight smile to grace her lips as she took to the short runway and stood before the judges.

"Nanao, you're one of the ones that actually had a commercial filmed over at Mt. Fuji," Tyra said as she sat straighter, "so, let's see your best take."

Nanao's photo of her temporary smile after elbowing Kensei flashed on the screen, and the judges nodded at it.

"I hear you got all your lines right in one take," Tyra said. "The photo here is good, a little rushed, but good. Thank you, Nanao."

Nanao said a low-key '_Thanks_' and turned down the runway to get back in line.

Tyra looked at the contestants. "Next is Yoruichi."

Yoruichi came forward.

"All righty then. Let's see your best shot," Tyra said, then automatically turned to look at the blank screen. A picture quickly flashed onto it. In it, Yoruichi, clad in her Naketano winter attire, was happily making a snow angel, the shot one of the more conservative of the set.

"I like it," Nigel said right away, adding a nod for effect.

"Me, too," said Miss Jay.

"It's okay," Uryuu said, pausing a bit. "But I don't see how it would sell coats."

"We're not using the Chapstick shot for the judging?" Nigel asked.

Tyra's smile crooked. "I'm afraid none of Miss Yoruichi's Chapstick shots came out. Lighting mishap."

Nigel sighed. "Oh."

"What does it look like?" Tousen asked, turning his head some as he faced the wall opposite of the one that the screen was on. "Is it over here?"

"It is a very good picture," Tyra said, enunciating loudly and slowly as she leaned towards Tousen, crossing Nigel. Then, she added, a bit louder, "Very good pose."

Tousen's head pivoted to the screen.

"He's blind, not deaf," Uryuu murmured lowly, sighing a bit as he sat back in his chair.

"Okay, Yoruichi. Thanks." Tyra flashed Yoruichi a quick smile. "And, the next one is Soifon."

Soifon did a snappy power walk down the runway, her stare on Tousen the whole way, eyes narrowing. She looked to the judges.

Tyra smiled at her. "You had a photo shoot with one of the male models for Chapstick. Let's see your best!"

On the screen flicked the image of Soifon applying the lip balm to her lips, a sour expression on her face, as a bemused Hisagi looked on. All the contestants looked to Tousen as Hisagi's image appeared onscreen, but there was no reaction from the blind man.

"Not much here," Nigel said.

"It was lemon," Soifon told him.

"Lemon or not, you should've smiled some," Tyra said. "Thank you, Soifon. Okay, next up is Orihime!"

Soifon shot Tousen a glare, which was wasted on him, before turning back to get in line, passing Orihime.

Orihime stopped before the judges table, smiling back at them.

"I hear your toboggan got away with you and your male model," Tyra said, lifting an eyebrow. "How was that?"

"Oh, it was a very long walk back up," Orihime said with a giggle.

"Let's see your best shot." Tyra looked to the screen as Orihime's only close-up popped on, showing the girl applying the lip balm to her smiling lips. "Good. Not bad."

Uryuu adjusted his glasses as he looked at the screen. "Not bad," he finally said.

Nigel shrugged. "Good for one shot."

Miss Jay sighed. "Very good for one shot."

"Thank you, Orihime," Tyra said as the girl turned. Rangiku, Nemu, and Yumichika each had there turn before the judges table, with Rangiku and Yumichika both hoping against hope that names wouldn't slip out as Tyra spoke about the photos, relieved when Hisagi and Ikkaku weren't named.

After that the contestants were dismissed to wait for the judges to deliberate, and the seven photos were studied in more earnest.

And described in more detail for the guest judge.

Nigel leaned closer to Tousen, holding Nemu's photo before them. "This is Nemu, she's a very well-proportioned girl, with a creamy complexion, soulful eyes, ample bosom, who takes direction --"

"Nigel," Tyra said, grabbing his arm, "maybe less can be more."

"Oh, yes." Nigel nodded. "She's a cutey-pie."

Tousen frowned. "Cutey-pie?"

"You bet," Miss Jay added. "By the way, love your hair. Where _do_ you get it done?"

Tousen looked in Miss Jay's direction. "Me?"

"Yes, _you_, baby," Miss Jay said with a wave of his hand. "Lovely 'do."

Tyra patted Miss Jay's hand. "Judge now, flirt later, Miss Jay."

Tousen looked confused. "_Miss_ Jay?"

Uryuu couldn't resist. "Yes. _Miss_ Jay."

"Nemu's okay. She's in," Tyra said, trying to move things along. She presented Soifon's photo. Everyone but Tousen grimaced.

"It's so sour," Nigel said. "She's been giving less than seventy-five percent during most of the competition. I don't see the drive in her."

"You and me both," Miss Jay said, giving the photo a dismissive wave.

Tyra set Orihime's photo before her. "She and the male model -- that's the bald guy in the background on the toboggan -- had to walk a mile up Mt. Fuji when the sled took off."

"Don't you people have any emergency equipment?" Uryuu said heatedly, reaching for the photo. He pulled it closer. "She's positively angelic, and she nearly caught hypothermia because of a _sled?_ What about a helicopter? What about --"

"She was fine, Mr. Ishida," Tyra said as the Quincy wound up. "She had a strong shot during the commercial, and she's okay ... Are you?"

Uryuu nodded, still fuming, the photo still in his hands.

"Moving on," Tyra said, pulling out another photo. "Yumichika."

"Yumichika?" Tousen echoed.

"Yumichika," Nigel said, placing the photo before the guest judge. "He's a bit manly in this one, and the model -- again, the bald one -- manages to actually set him at ease here."

Tyra shook her head at the photo of Yumichika balming his lips as Ikkaku looked on, half scowling. "He doesn't look at ease to me."

"For Yumichika, lately, that's ease," Nigel said."

"I'd like to see that one," Tousen said, laughing a bit.

"Oh, you'd love it!" Miss Jay gushed. "We'll talk later."

Tousen frowned.

Tyra flipped past Yoruichi's snow angel, bringing a ripple of chuckles from the judges, and brought out Rangiku's photo. "Here we have Rangiku and her best shot from the commercial."

Uryuu was still looking at Orihime's photo. "Are we going to see the commercials?"

"Yes, after we've judged the stills," Tyra explained. "We're not judging the commercials, but we'll see them in a moment."

Nigel took the photo of Rangiku and held it closer to Tousen. "Rangiku is a fiery light auburn-haired woman with brilliant blue eyes and a superb swimsuit body. She's managed to catch almost every pose, excels on the runway --"

"Nigel," Tyra said with a sigh.

" -- pose in the fantasy shots last week, with many of them --"

"Nigel," Tyra said again.

"I'm just trying to help our guest judge get a better idea of what Rangiku looks like," Nigel said.

"I can imagine," Tousen said dryly.

Nigel looked down at the photo of Rangiku smiling into the camera, the Chapstick in her hand, Hisagi lying half-buried in the snow behind her. "And there's a male model, dark hair."

"It's a scrumptious shot," Miss Jay said, nodding. "Uh-huh. The girl's got the goods."

Tyra nodded, letting Nigel and Uryuu keep the photos they each had, for the moment. "What do we think?"

Miss Jay shrugged. "All I can say, is lemon is not my flavor of the week."

Tyra nodded. "Soifon."

"She's a sour pickle," Tousen said.

They all looked to him.

"You got that right, baby," Miss Jay said. "So-ur."

"They're right," Nigel said.

Tyra held up Nanao's photo. "Nanao won the Naketano shoot, but she kinda lost it for the commercial shoot."

The other judges shook their heads.

"Not as sour as the pickle?" Tyra asked.

Everyone nodded.

"Okay, and the best?"

Nigel and Uryuu each held up a photo.

"Okay," Tyra said slowly. "Let's look at the commercials, shall we?"

A few moments later the room darkened and the judges watched the brief pieced-together shot of Orihime and Ikkaku's commercial. Uryuu sighed in relief at the minimal footage that he deemed tolerable.

Next was Nanao's short thirteen seconds of film with Kensei, also pieced together. It was received with polite nods.

Rangiku's commercial with Hisagi was longer, and they watched it from snowball fight to Chapstick, all the while Tousen looking blankly at the screen, oblivious to his former lieutenant's cameo.

The lights came back up, catching Nigel with a subtle dreamy look on his face for a second.

Tyra looked to each of the judges. "Not bad, not bad. So, have we come to our decision on the best of the shoots?"

* * *

A few moments later the contestants were assembled before the judges table again, nervous and anxious at the same time. Tyra stood before the table as usual, the photos in hand, looking out over them gravely.

"Seven beautiful girls stand in front of me, but only one can be the winner of The Next Top Model," Tyra said breathily. "There are only six photos in my hands. If I do not call your name, you must go back to the house, pack your things, and go home," she said, looking over them. She slowly turned over the first photo in her hand. "Orihime."

Orihime squealed and jumped up and down before sprinting down the runway to take her photo.

"Congratulations, girl, your shot was the best," Tyra said, smiling.

"Thank you!" Orihime turned and rejoined the line of contestants, waving a little to Uryuu, who blushed deeply.

"Next, Rangiku," Tyra said.

Rangiku came down the runway to receive her photo.

"We loved your commercial," Tyra said. "Lot's of life."

Rangiku smiled and took her place in line again.

Tyra called off the next names.

Yoruichi. Nemu. Yumichika.

Tyra looked to the last two contestants. "Soifon, Nanao, please come down here."

Soifon and Nanao approached Tyra, each a little unsure.

Tyra looked to them both. "You won the ski jacket shoot, but couldn't sell us happy for the lip balm commercial," she said to Nanao. "Soifon, you gave us pickle, shoot after shoot, and a sour pickle, at that." Tyra sighed. "We believed in you both, but only one has what it takes to stay in the running for The Next Top Model." She turned over Nanao's photo. "Nanao, you're still in the running to become The Next Top Model."

Nanao meekly took the photo, and then turned to give Soifon a hug. Soifon hugged her back, and then began her trek, alone, down the carpet.

"Hey, chin up, girl!" Yoruichi called to her. Soifon brightened.

"Yeah, chin up!" the rest of them chimed in.

And then there were six.

* * *

**Next Elimination: Fuedal Photo Shoot**

**Who's The Next Top Model? Poll is up!**


	18. Meanwhile IX

Aizen, Gin, and Tousen halted before the hotel reception desk line that afternoon, waiting their turn to check out. Aizen smoothed his hair back over one ear where a lop was missing, courtesy of Gin removing Momo's gum wad.

"You're sure it's not too noticeable?" he asked, self-consciously trying to push hair over the obvious hair faux pas.

"Naw, can't even see it," Gin said, grinning as they moved up in line. "Oh, I'll catch up with ya later."

Tousen frowned in his direction. "Where are you going?"

"Gotta see a man about somethin'. You got this, right, boss?" Gin asked Aizen.

He nodded. "But those cable movies are coming out of your per diem," he said, reaching into the back pocket of his dress pants.

Gin moved toward the lobby doors. "Okay, okay." Then he left.

Not finding his wallet, Aizen stuck his hand in the other back pocket. He frowned, checking his sports jacket. He and Tousen moved up in line, taking their turn before the desk.

He looked to Tousen. "Have you seen my wallet?"

Tousen gave him a dark look. "No. I haven't seen your wallet."

Aizen glanced at the door. Gin was gone. The woman behind the desk looked to them, expectant smile on her face.

"Just a minute," Aizen said to her, checking his inside jacket pocket. "How much you got on you, Tousen?"

The subordinate frowned. "You want _me_ to pay?"

"Just until we get back to Las Noches. I'll pay you back," Aizen grumbled. "Can't find my wallet ..."

* * *

Gin made his way quickly down the back alley of The Next Top Model studio, grinning as he spotted a man lurking in a darkened corner.

"You the guy with the photos?" he asked, wary despite the thick file under the man's arm.

The man nodded, shifting nervous looks up and down the alley. "I got them."

"Let's see." Gin edged closer.

"Who you looking for?" the man asked.

Gin reached for the folder.

The man held it out of reach.

Gin sighed. "Rangiku Matsumoto."

"Oh." The man opened the holder, flipping through photos of contestants from the last few weeks, pausing on one. "Her?"

Gin frowned at the photo of Orihime in her Sailor Moon outfit. "No. Bigger on top."

"Oh, _her_." The man flipped through more photos. He grinned, displaying Rangiku's Lolita photo. "Her."

"Yep." Gin reached for the photo. The man snapped the folder shut. "Hey, I want that!"

"Pay up."

"How much?"

"How much you got?"

Gin frowned at the folder. "How many photos ya got?"

The man opened the folder again, sifting through more photos.

Rangiku in her cheongsam, as a giraffe, in her French maid negligee, fighting with Momo.

Gin leaned closer, his grin increasing, chuckling, nodding. Until his face dropped. "Gaa!" He snatched the photo of Rangiku straddling Hisagi in the snow, her hand tight on his jacket, lips pressed to his. Gin ripped the picture away, gawking at it. "What's _this_?!"

The man nodded, leering at the photo. "She's kissing him."

"I can see _that_, you moron!"

The man shrugged. "How many you want?"

Gin's eyes were wide now, mouth slightly agape. "What? All of 'em... Not this one ...No, yes this one, too... No..." His fingers clutched the photo as the man found a few more photos in the folder.

"How about her?"

Gin made himself look away from Rangiku and Hisagi to the photo the man held. "Agh! No, not her."

The man looked back down at the photo of Halibel's audition still. "You sure?"

"Yep." Gin shuffled through the other photos in the folder. More stills of Rangiku and Hisagi, more of her with the Chapstick, more of the snowball fight. The photos moved quicker through his fingers as his frustration grew. "No!"

"Which ones do you want?" the man said with rising irritation. "Come on, I got other people to show."

Gin picked out all the ones including Rangiku. "All of 'em with her."

"Money."

Gin held the photos to his chest and found a wallet from his back pocket. He flipped it open, pulled out a wad of bills, scowling at the photos.

The man got a glimpse of Aizen's license photo in the wallet flap. "That don't look like you, man."

"Bad hair day," Gin grouched, stuffing the money at the man. "I'm taking 'em all."

The man glanced at the cash. "You got it." He repositioned the photos in the folder, grinning at Gin's shattered dignity as he looked through his photos. "A pleasure doing --"

"Get lost," Gin growled, scowl increasing as he glanced over the photos again, focusing on the snow scene ones as the man left down the alley.

It was all Aizen's fault.

He threw his head back and howled. "No, Rangiku!"

* * *

**_Next Elimination: Feudal Photo Shoot_**

**_Who's The Next Top Model? Poll is up!_**


	19. Feudal Photo Shoot

Tyra peeked hesitantly into the first room in the early hours of dawn, spotting Rangiku, Nanao, and Orihime in three of the four beds in the lavender bedroom before she moved down the hall. The pink room was empty. Only one bed was occupied in the green room, by Yoruichi. Tyra moved farther down the hall to see into the last room.

Inside the yellow room was Yumichika, snoring at the farthest bed, with Nemu sitting on the bed near the door, looking back at Tyra.

"Hi," Tyra whispered, a little startled to see the girl awake, fully dressed in black shorts and tank top, looking back at her.

"Good morning, Tyra," Nemu whispered back.

Tyra's uneasy smile slipped as she turned back down the hall, shaking her head. "Strange girl," she murmured, glimpsing into the green room as she went, then halting as Yoruichi sat up in bed, pulling her mint colored sheets up to cover her bare chest.

"'Morning, Tyra," the contestant said, smiling.

"Hi," Tyra said, looking around at the walls, her smile falling. "Where are the pictures?"

Yoruichi's smile turned playful. "What pictures, Tyra?"

"Hmm, there are supposed to be my photos on the walls in every room. I'll tell housekeeping..." Tyra's pushed her smile into place, always the top model that she was.

"Tyra's here!" Orihime cried from two feet away from her in the hall, jolting the super model.

Tyra smiled, recovered, and flung her arms out, exposing her bright pink kimono, tied right over left -- making Orihime cringe -- and giggled. "Good morning, girls! Up and at it! Time for breakfast!"

It took two minutes for the contestants to find robes -- or, in Yoruichi's case, any clothes at all -- and join Tyra in the kitchen for jelly buns and tea. On the counter were two large pastry boxes of the buns, from sweet bean paste to strawberry jam to custards.

"How are you all adjusting to the life of a model?" Tyra asked, smiling at them as they munched on buns. "Harder than you thought? Easier? Anyone missing home?"

Everyone nodded but Nemu.

"That's one of the things all models have to face if they want to make it in the business," Tyra continued. "Friends, family, your significant other. The fashion biz takes you all over the world, sometimes in an instant," she said, snapping her fingers for effect. "You never know when you'll be going, or even where you'll be going when that phone rings."

Each of the contestants -- except for Nemu -- nodded with understanding, still contentedly eating pastries.

"Gotta be on your toes. Since this is our final challenge in Tokyo," she said slowly, leadingly, smiling as they looked to her with a round of giggles, "we're going to see how your runway walk has improved from day one -- kimono-style!"

The six contestants squealed, jumping as much as some of them dared in their pajamas.

"So, put the donuts down, step away from the counter, ladies," Tyra said with mock seriousness, "and head on out to the pool for your kimono walk-off!"

* * *

At the sunny poolside a raised runway was set up, industry wide, with a two foot drop, cameraman and crew already in place. Nearby was a rack of colorful kimonos, and the Jays, dressed each in blue jeans and gray Top Model t-shirts, Jay Manuel's assistant at his side.

Orihime pulled her short yellow robe tighter around herself and emitted a squeak when she saw the men. Both Jays chuckled.

"Orihime, honey, we are past the embarrassed stage," Miss Jay told her as she hid behind Rangiku.

Orihime nodded, blushing.

Tyra stepped off from the deck behind them and waved for everyone's attention. "This morning we're going to hold an impromptu judging on not only your walk, girls, but also your turns, and your rhythm," she said with an exaggerated wiggle of her hips. "Can't be knocking each other off the runway during the final walk at a show. Mr. Jay, you've got the floor."

Jay Manuel smiled. "Thank you, Tyra." He looked out over the contestants. "Good morning, ladies!"

"Good morning, Jay!" they called back.

"This morning, Miss Jay and I," he said, gesturing to the runway coach beside him, who bowed, "will be synchronizing your end of the runway turns and elbows and hips so you can pass other models coming the opposite way. I know, sounds simple, right?" he said as a rift of giggling went through the contestants. "It should be, but sometimes models get the notion they're not going to yield, that they've got the right-of-way, and that's when the elbows and hips start flying. Let's see how we do."

Miss Jay nodded. "On that rack, each of you will find a kimono with a tag bearing your name. Grab it and get changed, and remember to tie those shoelaces, ladies."

Orihime's timidity disappeared as the six contestants rushed the rack of kimonos, and Jay's assistant mutedly told him of Tyra's obi gaffe, which was quickly acted upon.

Nanao pulled out a grass green kimono with her name on it, a floral pattern in orchid and white splayed along the bottom and edges. "How hard can it be to do a turn and walk past another model on a runway?" she mused, finding her sandals on the shoe rack below.

"Well, if we don't walk with our hands on our hips and our elbows sticking out," Orihime said, finding her own yellow kimono, "it should be easy."

Yoruichi shrugged. "Not a problem." She pulled out her silvery white kimono and looked around for the shoes below. She held up the platform sandals, raising an eyebrow at the six-inch soles and two-foot laces. "These will be interesting."

The other contestants looked to her, then the sandals. A collective sigh went around, heaviest from Yumichika.

* * *

They took turns -- everyone first, followed by Yumichika -- changing behind the draped area set up near the far hedges, and then got a quick touch-up and combing by the hair stylist and make-up crew, and then the Jays and Tyra stood ready to judge at the poolside.

"We want a strong walk," Jay told them as they stood in their kimonos and platform sandals, laces crossed to tie at their knees. "We want to see you work the kimono. They flow beautifully, and that's what we're looking for."

"And strong turns," Miss Jay added, nodding. "Speed is your friend here, girls, so use it in your favor, but not too fast. You're not pulling up water-skiers."

Tyra stood to one side, her kimono now correctly tied, watching, sipping on her Diet Coke.

Jay pointed. "Nemu, you're up first."

The contestants fell back and watched Nemu take her walk. She did a perfect stomp down the black carpet, one hand on her hip, eyes on Jay, pausing just long enough for the brilliant blue kimono to fall around her before she turned and made a reverse trek, the hem waving gracefully behind her.

"Now that was the ideal walk," Miss Jay said, clapping and looking to the other contestants.

Nanao sighed as Yoruichi leaned to her.

"Of course it was," the darker-skinned woman intoned lowly. Nanao nodded.

"Take note, girls," Jay said, shaking a finger at Nemu. "That's the ideal walk. Now, let's see Orihime."

The Living girl sheepishly clomped in her platform sandals to the edge of the runway, hesitant after Nemu's example. She smoothed her yellow kimono and began her best imitation.

"More hip, honey," Miss Jay said, nodding as Orihime approached.

Orihime obeyed, the bright fabric suddenly rotating exaggeratedly from side to side.

"Whoa, whoa," Jay said, grinning as Orihime stopped at the end of the runway. "You're rocking the boat, Orihime. Don't disjoint a hip; just swing it."

"Okay." She did a twirl of a turn and set off back down the runway with a little less sway.

"Better," Jay said. "Yoruichi, you're up."

Yoruichi and Rangiku followed with their curvy walks, bringing drools from the cameramen and compliments from the Jays. Nanao rolled her eyes, and took her turn, putting as much swagger into her walk as she could, nearly toppling herself twice.

"Not too much, hon," Miss Jay cautioned. "You gotta keep your rhythm and your balance."

Nanao tilted her chin and snapped a turn, the green kimono following her as she returned.

"Excellent turn, Nanao," Jay called to her. "Very good."

Nanao smiled as Yumichika took the runway.

Yumichika tightened the sash of his white kimono with orange and red flowers, deciding a moderate sashay would be enough. He trounced down the carpet, stopped at the end and did a quick turn before heading back to the other end.

"More hip, Yumichika," Miss Jay called, bringing a giggle from the other contestants.

Yumichika's walk didn't change.

When he'd returned to line, the Jays nodded at them.

"Not bad, not bad. Some pretty good," Jay said. "Now we're going to see how you do coming and going, passing each other, in full speed. I want you to form a line and begin your walk, each four seconds after the other, down the runway, and turn and go back, in a continuous loop until we say to stop. Any questions?"

The contestants bobbed their heads in unison, but lined up.

The walk began. First out was Nanao, followed after a few seconds by Orihime, Yoruichi, Nemu, Yumichika, and Rangiku, to be repeated. The Jays nodded as the loop appeared smooth, a few problem moments when Orihime's left hip nearly knocked Yumichika off the platform with her extra-oomph as they passed each other opposite, and a pause of a different sort for the Jays when for a few seconds Yoruichi's backside was aligned side-by-side, hip for hip in tandem, with Rangiku's head-on walk -- both show-stopping -- on the runway.

"Guess this disproves the old adage about everyone being shapeless in a kimono," Miss Jay mumbled, eyes on the women as they passed each other, loose hair flouncing. Rangiku came to the end of the runway, made her turn, and continued back. "Hmm, makes you rethink the straight life, don't it?"

Jay nodded. "Sure does."

Tyra joined them, leaning over their shoulders between them. "Having doubts, boys?"

Jay sighed, watching the contestants make another loop on the runway. "The walk is there for most of them. Nemu has precision, but she lacks any, I don't know, warmth."

"Orihime's got the knees knocking, hips rocking, but a little ankle clipping," Miss Jay said. "She straightened it out, though. She's teachable."

"Rangiku and Yoruichi have strong walks, even with the hips and breasts, and handle the turns well," Jay said as the contestants made another pass.

"They'd play everywhere," Tyra said, nodding, sucking noisily at the straw in her Diet Coke. "Rangiku would snap up the cover of every top fashion magazine in four months. Yoruichi -- women of color all over the world would kill to see how she wears anything."

"There's something about her walk that makes it second nature," Miss Jay said. "Almost instinctive."

Jay raised an eyebrow at the other two. "If she could just keep the hootch out of it, there'd be no stopping her."

Tyra nodded as the contestants made their sixth loop. "But Orihime has it, too. Not the same, something different. She's got a fresh liveliness the others lack."

"She is younger," Miss Jay added.

Tyra nodded. "Something bouncy about her." She saw the Jays' attention go to Orihime's yellow kimono. "Not _those_ bouncies, boys. Something innocent about her nature."

"Maybe too innocent for this work?" Miss Jay asked.

Tyra and Jay shrugged.

"Okay, enough fun. Wrap this up, boys," she said, sucking up the last of her soda with the straw. "They've got to pack."

Jay nodded. He clapped his hands, looking at the contestants. "Very good, ladies. Now, line up for your critiques."

The six contestants formed a line at the end of the runway, and the Jays looked at each one, leaving Tyra to her soda.

"Nemu, good walk," Jay said, nodding. "Yumichika, good, a little less with the shoulders, just so you don't knock the other models in the head."

Yumichika looked to his shoulders, frowning.

"Yoruichi, keeping the hootch under control," Jay said as he passed her. "Nice job. Orihime, good all-around walk. Nanao, a little more snap in your step, but otherwise good. Rangiku, strong, watch the hips as you pass the other model, especially if they're built like you." He looked at the line of contestants. "All in all, strong walks today."

"Very good," Miss Jay added, nodding. "And this morning's winner is ..."

Jay grinned out over the line. "Orihime!"

Orihime clasped her hands over her mouth, smiling, hopping on her platform sandals until she nearly fell over.

"You'll get a special advantage at the elimination photo shoot later," Jay told her as she steadied herself. He looked behind him to see Tyra approaching. "And to tell you more about tomorrow's photo shoot, here is the lovely Tyra Banks."

Tyra smiled out over them, hands on her hips. "I hope you're ready for a change of scenery, girls, because now you're going to pack up and head out to your new home!"

Squeals went through the contestants.

"Where?" Rangiku and Nanao asked together.

Tyra giggled. "Can't tell. You'll see when we get there."

"Hawaii?" Orihime guessed hopefully.

"Mmm, maybe ..." Tyra said.

"Ooh, Paris," Yoruichi said, grinning. "I've never been there."

Tyra only smiled. "Go on inside and pack up, girls, 'cuz we're moving out!"

* * *

The house was located outside of town -- far enough outside of town that the residents couldn't hear much of what went on inside the high bamboo, vine-covered walls that enclosed the comfortable, roomy house and courtyard.

The layout of the few rooms was open, with rice paper dividers parting out the sleeping quarters -- six beds -- from the living area, which opened to an in-ground pool in the midst of the courtyard surrounded by house.

It was a new pool, the contestants decided as they stood at the opening of the enclosed yard, with freshly grouted blue and green tiles surrounding it, a diving board at the deep end.

But it was still a Shiba family house, and Yoruichi knew it.

"Soul Society?!" Nanao said for the fourth time, violet eyes wide as she stared at their new living quarters. They'd all already said it a dozen times. "We come all this way, over these last weeks, to end up in Soul Society?!"

Even Nemu wasn't completely aloof to the new residence as they stood still clutching their luggage. She handed Yoruichi a purple and gold envelope. "Tyra said to read this when --"

"Give me that," Yoruichi muttered, snatching the envelope open as they stood just inside the Shiba gates. "'Welcome to your new home, located just outside the beautiful village of Rukongai, near the picturesque Seireitei,'" she read, making a disagreeable face. "'This house has been in the Shiba family for generations, and has been allowed for our use by your gracious host Ganju Shiba-san' -- _Ganju_?!" Her gold eyes searched the courtyard. "Did Tyra even meet this joker? Who's in charge of accommodations for this show?"

Rangiku looked over Yoruichi's shoulder. "It says to go in and make ourselves at home," she read from the bottom of the letter. "'Love, Tyra.'"

The contestants passed around confused and exasperated looks before heading into the house.

"He better not be lurking around," Nanao said, one eye sharply peeled to the expansive house as they entered the main doors.

"He won't be," Yumichika said, nearly walking over Orihime as she stopped in front of him and turned.

"How do you know?" she asked as he sidestepped around her.

Yumichika grinned as they continued into the house. "_Gracious_ host Ganju? I'll bet Kuukaku doesn't know what her little brother is up to." They moved farther into the house and found the roomy sleeping quarters -- one large room. "He must know his big sister is out of the competition, and he thinks he can play host to the rest of us. She must not be back yet."

"Or elsewhere, like at the -- well, not in the vicinity," Yoruichi finished as they dropped their bags in the room with the beds.

They looked at the beds, a breeze sifting through the screens of the floor-length windows poolside, and then farther down the hall to the living quarters. Yoruichi put her bags on one of the beds dressed in mauve linens and fluffy pillows.

"Not too bad," she said with a sigh, nodding at the full-length mirrors at one bamboo wall, partially hidden with folding screens. "I guess Tyra thought Soul Society sounded exotic."

Everyone groaned, and then picked out their beds. Yumichika watched them, and then dragged one of the beds nearer to the door, ignoring Yoruichi's sly glance as he did.

"It could be worse," Nanao said as she arranged her clothes in a rattan closet that she shared with Nemu. "We could be in Rukongai."

A round of agreement went up from the other contestants.

"What about Ganju's gang? The boar-riders," Orihime recalled with apprehension as she and Rangiku folded clothes into their closet.

Yoruichi and Rangiku exchanged looks.

"You see any peeping-toms, let us know," Yoruichi said. "But I don't think any of them would risk it."

The evening passed uneventful, with a late dinner that they each took a hand in preparing, without prying eyes -- except for the ever-present cameramen, who were taking shifts with the camera, being their usual invisible selves, relegated to a futon in a corner of the main living quarters.

* * *

"Yumichika."

He didn't stir, passing the voice off as a bit of dream.

"Yumichika," it purred again.

This time he opened his eyes in the early morning light to see Yoruichi standing at the fern green folding screen he'd set up as a divider between his bed and those of the others in the sleeping room.

He frowned at her, rubbing his face. "What? Is Tyra here?"

"No, Tyra's not here." She stepped closer, already dressed in a pair of white shorts and a pink tank top. "You don't have to put the screen up," she told him, pulling her dark hair up with both hands as she wound a hair-tie around it. "We're used to you."

His frown intensified as he sat up more, pulling the sheet higher about himself. "Maybe I'm not used to you all."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'd think you would be, by now."

He watched her cautiously as she stepped to the side of his bed, cocking her head to one side as she looked him over closely.

"I wouldn't worry about what Jay said about your shoulders," she said, nodding, a smile playing at her lips. "You have more of a slender build, not very broad-shouldered at all. I don't think you'd have to worry about bumping into the other models."

He wished he had the nerve to growl at her. Instead he sat upright more. "What do you want, Yoruichi? Bored? Starting the teasing early today?"

She mocked a wounded expression. "I don't tease you that much, Yumichika."

He looked to each of her gold eyes. "What do you want?"

She nodded to the sliding door. "Our gracious host is in the kitchen. Can you go tell him to keep out of the house while we're here?"

"Ganju is here?"

Yoruichi nodded.

Yumichika rubbed his chin where dark stubble was starting, making him frown. "You want me to kick him out of his own house?"

She nodded again.

"Why me?"

She smiled, eyes turning cat-like. "You're the man here, Yumichika."

He shot her a look. "When it suits you."

* * *

Ganju was arrayed in all his best clothes -- all three layers of Shiba finery -- by the time Yumichika got to the kitchen area in his robe.

The host turned, already smiling broadly, standing with his hands on his hips with his gold and scarlet robes draped as ceremoniously over his ungainly form as they could be, when he saw Yumichika enter the room.

"Agh! A man. What are _you_ doing here?" Ganju barked at him.

"You loud mouth, you invited us," Yumichika growled at him.

"You? _You're_ a contestant?"

"Get used to it," Yumichika told him lowly, tying his robe tighter. "Why your house?"

"I offered. Out of the goodness of my heart," Ganju said magnanimously, standing regal in his finery.

"What did they pay you for this generosity?"

Ganju looked guiltier than he did selfless. "... They put in the pool."

"You got a pool out of this deal?"

"An in-ground pool. And patio. It took half of Rukongai to dig it."

Yumichika shook his head. "Another thing; no friends of yours here while the contestants are here. Understand?"

Ganju's flaccid face grew lurid. "Are you telling me who can be in my house?"

"Yes. None of your boar-riding gang, no spectators, no visitors, and no you." Yumichika frowned. "Tyra wouldn't allow a man in the house with her models."

"You're here."

"I'm a contestant," Yumichika bit out, making the cameraman step a foot back. "I'll tell everyone you said 'Welcome to the Shiba House,' and now you can leave, understand?"

Ganju thought it over, shooting a glare at the camera, and then Yumichika. "What if I just visit?"

"No."

"But I haven't seen any of the shows. Even that Kurotsuchi-san couldn't get the television to work. We don't get reception here."

Yumichika shook his head. "Not my problem. No visits."

They both looked to the doorway as a pink camisole-clad figure with red-brown hair trailing zipped past the kitchen in a blur.

"Tyra mail!" Orihime's voice rang out.

Ganju just had time for a wide grin before Yumichika pushed him to the outside door. "Now, wait --"

"That's it, Ganju. Thank you for the gracious use of the Shiba House," Yumichika said, pushing him through the door and sliding it shut as the man's meaty arm tried to reach for him. "No visits."

"Eunuch!"

Yumichika threw open the door, gave Ganju's ridiculous face a shove, and slid the door shut.

By the time Yumichika joined the other five contestants in the main living area -- nodding to Yoruichi who raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him -- Nanao was already reading the note.

"'You've only just arrived, but a model's life is non-stop,'" she read. "'You've made it to the stiffest part of the competition, which means you all have potential, but now it's time to pull out your inner warrior.'" She lowered the note, frowning.

"She's going to make us battle it out," Orihime said slowly, looking to the shinigami surrounding her, paling. "It's going to be Battle Royale."

"They can't do that," Rangiku said, shaking her head. "The producers would never allow it."

Yoruichi laughed. "Look around. We're in Soul Society, in a Shiba house. Obviously the producers will allow anything."

Orihime's face took on a sickened look.

Yoruichi nudged her with an elbow, grinning at the girl's growing panic. "Just joking, kid. No Battle Royale. You'll see."

* * *

Half an hour later the limousine pulled up before a deserted area out of view from Rukongai where the trees grew thick, the sloping landscape showing the valley below lush green.

The contestants got out, still getting accustomed to their semi-new surroundings, and looked to the camera crew and make-up stations set up by the curtained-off changing area. The camera was angled at the set to show the valley as a natural backdrop, and near the changing area were two racks of thick, heavy garments.

"Hallo, ladies!" Jay Manuel called, appearing from the camera crew in a pair of black jeans and t-shirt that read 'I See Hollows' in neon blue.

"Hi, Jay!" the contestants called back to him.

"So, what do you think of your new digs?" he asked, smiling as they looked to each other for answers.

"Spacious," Nemu said.

They all looked to her, and then nodded quickly.

"Oh, very spacious," Yoruichi agreed.

"Roomy," Nanao added.

"It has a nice breeze that smells like orchids," Orihime added, smiling.

"Good. Your gracious host Ganju Shiba-san of the prominent Shiba family has opened his home to you, so I hope you can all appreciate that. Today," Jay continued, gesturing to the racks of clothing, "you're going to be showcasing Museum Replicas' newest addition to their already vast assortment of edged weaponry -- Japanese swords, namely the katana."

The contestants smiled, except for Orihime, who looked a little lost. Even Nemu smiled. A little.

"Now, we know some of you can handle a weapon," Jay said, nodding at Rangiku, "but there will be no fighting today. This photo shoot is about bringing out your fierce side, and I'm not talking about merely an intense face at the end of the runway. We want to see your samurai side today."

The contestants nodded, smiling wider.

"Good. Now, the weapons are not sharpened, but they can still be dangerous, so no Kill Bill routines out there unless you know what you're doing, okay?"

"Okay, Jay!"

"The emphasis is on the sword, but be sure not to put it in front of your face," he told them as his assistant handed him a clipboard. "We want fierce face, and a good strong pose with the sword. Product placement, model-style." He looked to the clipboard, and then to Orihime. "You won the kimono challenge yesterday, Orihime, so you get first choice of sword and armor."

"Oh ... good," she said without much enthusiasm.

Jay pointed to the two display racks of Museum Replicas swords. "Pick out your weapon, and then -- carefully -- make your way to wardrobe," he said, pointing to the racks of authentic period armor. "It's going to be hot, so I advise everyone to get your best shots as quickly as you can."

* * *

Orihime chose her sword, sat through half an hour of make-up, and spent forty-five minutes being dressed by the two wardrobe attendants, who layered her with armaments of mixed periods in leather, metal, and padded fabric until she weighed nearly double.

She made her way under the cumbersome attire to the photo shoot set where Jay and the camera crew waited, nearly panting in the heavy, hot outfit, very little of her face peeking out from the helmet on her head.

Jay grinned at her as some of the contestants behind him were arguing over the swords. "Looking lethal, Orihime."

"Thank you, Jay," she said as cheerfully as she could, raising her katana to him.

"Now, we want to see you move, but you don't have to do fast or fluid. These are stills. Get to your pose, and hold it, and then move on to another," he told her. "Can you do that?"

"Hai!"

Orihime set off into a blocky pattern of stiff movements that both made her outfit creak and clank and exhausted her in fifteen minutes. Each pose was punctuated by a "Hai!" which at the end had petered out to a mere whimper.

"Not too bad," Jay told her as she paused, panting. "But we need a few with you holding the sword over your head, so we can see your face better, sweetheart."

"O-kay."

Only Yumichika came close to filling out the samurai armor. He stood in full gear, watching Orihime's movements become slower and slower before the camera and photographer as Jay directed her.

"She gets first choice of sword?" Rangiku said, shaking her head as the rest of the contestants watched Orihime's photo shoot. "Now that's a loss."

Beside her Yoruichi was looking to the grassy ridge sporadically lined with trees in the distance. "Are those people?"

Nemu, Nanao, and the other contestants, fully armored, looked to the ridge. Nemu nodded.

"Yes," she said, focusing on the small figures half a mile away.

Rangiku looked to her. "Can you tell who they are?"

Nemu nodded. "Kenji Yamashita, Mitsuru Ishino, Taichi Miyamoto, a few others Captain Kurostuchi considers dispensable, and," she giggled slightly, "Vice-Captains Kira, Hisagi, and Iba," she squinted, "and Ichigo Kurosaki and Captain Kyouraku."

Nanao's eyes got wider as she looked to the ridge. "Are you sure?"

"I'm quite sure," Nemu said, smiling just a bit.

Yumichika stepped back into the shadows of the sycamore tree. "How well can they see us?"

Rangiku looked him over from head to heel. "They can't tell who any of us are from that distance," she assured. "They probably think we're planning an attack."

"Do you want to know who's on the other ridge?" Nemu asked, looking to the opposite, more heavily-treed slope across the valley.

The other four contestants looked to the second ridge.

"There are people there, too?" Yoruichi asked, trying to focus on the tiny row of black points on the ridge.

"Nemu, you're up next!" Jay called, waving her over. An exhausted Orihime dragged herself back to wardrobe.

Nemu clutched her sword and walked briskly to where Jay and the crew waited.

Rangiku frowned after the artificial woman. "She could've told us first."

Yoruichi nodded. "I'll bet it's Captain Hitsugaya. About time his little hormones kicked in."

"Leave his hormones out of it," Rangiku said, bristling. "He's doing just fine."

Yoruichi grinned, looking to where Yumichika was still sheltered in the tree shade. "Or Ikkaku, or Captain Zaraki."

"Or Captain Soi Fon," Nanao added.

Yoruichi nodded. "Maybe."

* * *

After the afternoon of extremely successful photo shoots the contestants headed back to the Shiba house for a swim, a nap, and an early dinner before heading back to judging.

The judges table was set up in a temporary building erected by The Next Top Model crew, complete with runway, display screen, swags partitioning the backstage holding areas from the onscreen set, and every amenity Tyra Banks and her entourage thought she needed for her shooting of the show.

Miss Jay sat behind the judges table as the props girl polished the six remaining points on his tiara, dressed in his finest 1920s emerald green flapper dress, feeling a little over-dressed as they waited.

He and Uryuu, Tyra, and Nigel sat in the shadow thrown by the guest judge.

A pointy-haired shadow, whose spiky-hairdo put Miss Jay's tiara to shame. For several long moments no one had spoken, including Uryuu, who'd been exposed to the guest judge before, under different circumstances.

Finally Miss Jay mustered up his nerve, threw his feathery teal boa over his shoulder, and leaned over the table to see Kenpachi Zaraki better.

"I see the bells, but I don't hear no ringin'," he said with a drawl. "Just for show?"

Zaraki turned his good eye on the flamboyant judge. "Nothing around here to make them ring," he said, then looked to Nigel. "Is he the fruitcake one?"

Nigel grinned. "Uh, well, you could say that."

Zaraki sent a belittling glare down the table to where Miss Jay was trying to win him over with an ingratiating smile. It failed. Zaraki growled. "Yeah, I've got a fruitcake in my unit, too. Good man, good fighter, but a real pretty-boy."

Tyra sat in her usual seat as the lighting man did his final check. She looked between the judges for a moment, stuffed into her plus-size fuchsia kimono tied with a bright yellow sash, her beaded earrings dangling to her shoulders. "Oh, do you? I see. You're with the military here, so I can assume you're beholding to the don't-ask-don't-tell policy, too?"

Zaraki frowned at her, grunting. "He's a fake fruitcake. Nothing like all this," he said, gesturing a large finger at Miss Jay's flapper garb.

The cameraman did a countdown, and Tyra bounded to her feet, scuttling around the table to the red carpet runway as the contestants came through the makeshift swag-draped doorway. They lined up at the end of the runway carpet, each in khaki cargo shorts and lavender t-shirts with the black words Museum Replicas Master across the front.

Yumichika took one look at the guest judge, grew a paler shade of pale, and froze.

Tyra smiled at them, smoothing down her kimono, waving and snapping her fingers. "Hello, ladies!"

"Hello, Tyra," they returned.

"Today, you handled real swords. How was that?"

A chorus of agreeableness came from the contestants as Zaraki's attention went from each to the next in line.

"Before we get started, let me tell you about the prizes," Tyra said, oblivious to the guest judge's study. "First is a contract with Up Front Agency, a very well-known Japanese agency favored for producing some of the best idols in Asia..."

Yumichika stepped closer to Rangiku. "I've always admired your hair," he said barely audibly, eyes on his captain. "I meant to tell you that several times."

Rangiku frowned as Tyra continued her recitation. "What are you talking about?" she whispered back.

Zaraki narrowed his focus on a certain contestant.

Yumichika felt the blood drain from his face, his brain growing cold. He swallowed the lump in his throat as Zaraki's eyes bore into his. "Tell Ikkaku I'll take his secret to my grave."

Rangiku saw the reason for his alarm, saw Zaraki's fingers push dents into the judges table, eyes on the male contestant.

"... last but not least, our guest judge, Captain Zaraki," Tyra was saying, gesturing glibly to the enormous man sitting beside Nigel at the judges table. "Let's get started!"

She hurried around the table and took her seat between Nigel and Uryuu, smiling at the contestants, most of who were looking at Zaraki.

Who was looking at Yumichika.

"First up, Nanao," Tyra said, smiling at said woman as she did her striking walk down the runway.

This turned Zaraki's head. He watched the diminutive woman stop before the judges table.

"Today you were all sword-wielders," Tyra said, nodding, "and Jay Manuel said it was one of the most productive photo shoots he's every directed. He said all you girls were unbelievably good."

Zaraki looked to Tyra at her use of the term girls, and then settled his gaze on his fifth seated.

"Let's see your best shot," Tyra said.

On the screen blinked Nanao's photo with her in full samurai armor, the katana in both her hands, striking a fierce pose as she yelled.

"Oh, I like this one," Miss Jay said, nodding. "Lots of energy from such a small girl, and look at the eyes. Even with the glasses, they just reach out and choke you."

Nigel nodded, and after a moment, Zaraki did too, glancing briefly at the screen.

"Thank you, Nanao," Tyra said with a smile. "You can go back now. Next is Orihime!"

Orihime did a bouncy walk down the runway, distracting Zaraki from Yumichika for a fleeting moment.

"You won the kimono challenge yesterday and got to choose your katana today," Tyra said. "How'd that go for you?"

Behind her Yumichika was preparing for fight or flight, summoning the adrenalin rush he was going to need as his captain's attention drifted between Orihime's samurai photo on the screen and the line of contestants.

" ...Next up, Yumichika," Tyra said in a carefree tone, unaware of the dread that washed over him as she did.

Yumichika didn't recall taking the few steps down the runway, or stopping halfway down it.

Zaraki stood up, glaring at the contestant. "You dandified peacock!"

Yumichika's mouth went dry as he looked from his captain to Tyra. "I ... I officially quit, Miss Banks," he told Tyra, and then turned heel and shunpo'd out the doorway.

"Come back here, fancy pants!" Zaraki bellowed, zipping down the runway and past the other contestants so fast that no one saw him move. "Get back here, Ayasegawa!"

The captain and Division Eleven member disappeared out the doorway, Zaraki's great roaring following them out.

Tyra looked to the doorway, blinking in disbelief, and then to Nigel and Miss Jay. "Did he just quit?"

"He? She? I'd have to say yes," Miss Jay said. "He was doing so well, too. Some just can't take the heat."

"He's been a little rocky for the last few weeks," Nigel said, trying to hide a grin.

Uryuu rolled his eyes, flinching as Zaraki's threats echoed back to the room.

Tyra looked at the doorway for a moment longer, then to the other contestants. "Did ya'll hear what I heard?"

"That Yumichika quit?" Yoruichi asked.

Tyra nodded.

The five contestants nodded.

"You don't think he'll be back?" she asked.

The contestants shook their heads.

Tyra looked to her fellow judges. "We've been here before."

Miss Jay nodded. "Rukia."

Tyra nodded.

"You said all the photos were strong," Nigel said, leaning closer to Tyra. "If you make another cut now, with Yumichika already out, you'll have a short season," he said sotto voce. "Let's look at the photos and judge from those."

"With no closed session?" Uryuu asked, pushing his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose, looking uncomfortably at the photo of Yumichika on the top of the stack before Tyra.

Nigel nodded.

Tyra considered this, looking back at the contestants who watched them anxiously. "Let's do it," she decided. She stood up and addressed the five remaining women. "Ya'll come on down here, and put some sass in those struts!"

With a giggle Nanao, Nemu, Orihime, Yoruichi, and Rangiku did their own versions of runway walks to the judges table, each shifting a hip at the end.

"Very nice, very nice," Miss Jay said, smiling at them all. "Looking good."

"We've seen Nanao and Orihime's best shots," Tyra said, raising an eyebrow at them. "Now we're going to mix it up, and look at the rest of you and make our decision from there."

The contestants looked at each other uneasily.

Tyra smiled. "Rangiku, let's see your best shot."

On the screen flicked Rangiku's shot, her katana raised overhead in strike mode, lunging for the camera.

"Very good, I like it," Nigel said, nodding. "Not surprised, recalling how you handled yourself in the Vallejo photo shoot."

Rangiku smiled.

"Good," Tyra said, her left eye twitching slightly. "Okay, next we have Nemu."

Nemu tilted her head to one side, blinking as a photo of her wielding the sword flashed onto the screen.

Uryuu nodded. "She's a bit stiff, but lethal. She knows her stuff. Most of them do." His smile went to Orihime. She smiled back.

"Could still use a little more vitality in the eyes," Nigel said, frowning. "Still a little blank for me in the eyes."

Nemu nodded.

"He's right," Tyra said, looking to Yoruichi. "Next up is Yoruichi's photo."

A photo of Yoruichi in samurai battle gear popped onto the screen, the sword half raised, her looking daring the camera to come closer.

Nigel nodded. "Very good pose, almost as if she's readying to pounce. An unusual photo, but I like it."

Uryuu looked to Yoruichi, who smiled at the judges.

Miss Jay nodded at the photo on the screen. "You're right. Like she's getting ready to launch, but the sword is still dominant in the frame. Excellent product placement."

Tyra nodded, looking from the screen to the contestants. "These are all some quality work, ladies, and any photographer -- or client -- would be happy to have this selection." She looked to the judges at the table beside her. "Are we in agreement, gentlemen?"

The other judges nodded.

Tyra stood up and took a long moment looking to each of the contestants. "Nanao, you were the slightest, physically, in the photos, but you were able to pull off deadly in your photo. Orihime, you were the least comfortable in your photo," she said to the Living girl, "but you still gave us the heart of a samurai."

Orihime smiled, bowing.

Tyra looked to Nemu. "We keep looking for more life in your eyes, Nemu, but you're not quite giving it to us." She looked to Rangiku and then Yoruichi. "Both of you had strong photos, both able to give us fatal. One of you was better -- not much -- but enough."

Tyra looked to each for a moment, and then looked to Yoruichi. "Your photo was strongest this week, Yoruichi. Congratulations!"

Yoruichi smiled and gave a whoop.

Tyra glanced back to the rest of them. "And for such strong shows in the photo shoot, you're all moving on in the competition for The Next Top Model."

A collective squeal went up from the remaining contestants as they embraced each other in a group hug.

And then there were five.

* * *

**Next Elimination: Textures Photo Shoot**

**Poll is up. Who's The Next Top Model?**


	20. Meanwhile X

Captain-General Yamamoto looked out at the row of captains assembled before him for the meeting that morning, scowling, his long whiskers drooping lower as his old eyes narrowed on the Gotei 13.

Or, in this case, Seven.

"This is the saddest count for attendance ever," he finally griped at them, watching Captains Soifon and Kuchiki nod in unison. "I know some of you are without your vice-captains for a while, but that's no reason we can't hold a decent captains meeting."

Shunsui cleared his throat, his lazy smile exchanged for mock seriousness. "Well, Captain-General," he began with rare formality, "the official story is that Captain Ukitake is under the weather."

All eyes went to Retsu, who appeared surprised for a few seconds, before nodding. "He's ... resting."

Yamamoto's stern gaze turned from her back to Shunsui.

"Do you have an _official story_ for Captain Kurotsuchi as well?"

Shunsui scratched his half-shaven neck, trying not to grin. "He's deep in research. At the moment. Sir."

"And for Captain Komamura?"

"Eh ... no."

Zaraki's eyes slid to Retsu standing beside him as Yamamoto sighed and looked to the double doors behind them, waiting for one of the missing captains to come straggling in.

"You didn't tell me _he_ was there, too," Zaraki said lowly to her, accusation hinting his tone.

Retsu lifted an eyebrow, fingers tempted to toy with the single braid of hair she now kept to one side. "Oh? I didn't think to. He's just having a little fun."

Zaraki frowned.

"Just a lark," she said quietly, smiling a bit at him. "Nothing serious. Nothing anyone would take seriously." She could see the Captain of Eleventh wasn't amused. "I had a lovely time at dinner."

Zaraki's scowl lessened. "Hmm. So did I. We'll have to do so again. Soon?"

Retsu nodded, offering more of a smile this time.

Shunsui sighed, taking half a step back from the line in preparation to leave. "Well, looks like this is it," he said, a slow grin starting across his face, itching to reclaim his spot on the ridge, or wherever else offered the best vantage point. "Not really enough to hold a proper meeting, so ..."

Yamamoto looked down the line.

An irritated Soifon, rather serene-looking Retsu, typically suave and aloof Byakuya, lackadaisical Shunsui.

And no-nonsense Hitsugaya and the hard-as-nails Zaraki.

Shunsui watched Yamamoto, waited for the General to dismiss them, to give up, to give in.

When Yamamoto spoke, his voice was a low bass. "I'm only as _old_ as you think, gentlemen; not as stupid."

There was a polite grumbling of disagreement, during which Yamamoto cleared his throat.

" ... Meeting adjourned."

* * *

**_Next Elimination: Textures Photo Shoot_**

**_Who's The Next Top Model? Poll is up!_**


	21. Textures Photo Shoot

The next morning dawned hot and muggy, the air thick with humidity before they were even out of bed. Yoruichi was already up and about, leaving Nemu, Nanao, Rangiku, and Orihime to dress in the spacious sleeping quarters as the sun's rays shown off the pool waters beyond the patio doors.

"It's going to be a hot one today," Nanao said as she rummaged through the rattan closet. "I guess we should still dress Tokyo-style for the show." She looked leadingly to Rangiku across the room as she straightened her bed linens.

Rangiku shrugged, pulling her short yellow sleeping slip past her rear end. She looked to the door slid open a few inches, through which the cameraman was angling the camera. "Well? Help us out here?"

The cameraman remained silent, as always, a grin on his face as he filmed the morning routine of the last five contestants.

"No help, as usual," Rangiku said with a sigh before glancing to Nanao. "I guess we should stay in Tokyo-style."

Orihime nodded in agreement from her own bed, dressing beneath her mauve sheets. "I think Tyra would expect it."

Nemu nodded, already dressed in lilac shorts and a white spaghetti-string tank top, then looked out the wide windows to see the black cat that was making its rounds along the bamboo fencing.

Suddenly the cat looked up, posture tensing as its attention went to the house's enclosed gate.

At the same moment Orihime made a pink and blue sprint for the door, nearly knocking over the cameraman, who wasn't too eager to get out of the way in time.

Nanao and Rangiku looked to each other with wonder.

"Tyra's here!" Orihime called back cheerily.

Rangiku grabbed a handful of clothes from her closet as Nemu and Nanao both made for the door, the last snagging the cameraman's arm as he paused the camera on Rangiku's hasty wardrobe change.

"Hi, girls!" Tyra cried as Nemu and Nanao -- and the cameraman -- joined Orihime with her in the largest room of the living quarters.

"Hi, Tyra!" they called back, too loudly.

"Hmm, who's missing?" Tyra said, already warm in her white shorts and apricot tank top, size plus.

The black cat scampered through the room to the back quarters.

"Ooh, pretty kitty," Tyra cooed. "Hello kitty. Luna, right? Isn't that Sailor Moon's cat's name?"

Even Orihime had a hard time smiling at the mention. The cat made a hissing sound from beyond the room.

Tyra looked out over the contestants, pushing her hair up with a manicured set of nails. "Rangiku and Yoruichi are missing?"

Nemu, Orihime, and Nanao looked to where the cat had disappeared.

"Did you hear that?" a male voice said. "She called me Luna!"

"I'm sure she didn't mean it," Rangiku said, a moment later appearing in pink cargo shorts and a lime green tank top in the room with Tyra and the other contestants. She smiled. "Yoruichi's changing. She'll be right out."

"Good." Tyra looked around at the room set with a low table with several pillows around it. "This is perfect. Today we're not -- Oh, there you are."

Yoruichi gave Tyra a tolerant look as she stepped into the room, still winding her dark hair in a white hair-tie. "Sorry to be late."

"Hello, Yoruichi," Tyra said glibly, raising an eyebrow as she looked out over all of them. "We're down to the last five contestants. You all should be very proud of yourselves for getting this far. It means you each has almost everything it takes to be The Next Top Model." She smiled. "This morning in lieu of a challenge I'd like to spend a little time with each of you, one-on-one, and see what's going through your minds. Just the two of us. Hmm?"

* * *

Orihime was a little nervous about being first to speak with the super model. She sat quietly on the cushion, looking to Tyra as the older woman made herself comfortable on the two cushions, settling into a model-esque posture, smiling.

"So, you've made it to the top five, Orihime," Tyra said. "What do you think about that?"

Orihime returned the smile. "I didn't think I'd get this far. Tatsuki didn't want to try out, but I thought it would be fun, so she came with me. I wish she was here now."

"It's hard moving on in competition sometimes when you leave someone behind," Tyra said soothingly. "Do you get along with everyone in the house?"

Orihime nodded.

"Really? Good." Tyra smiled wider, cocking her head to one side. "A little intimidated by some of the other girls?"

Orihime pushed her timid smile back into place. "Sometimes. A little."

"Some of them a little more worldly than you?"

Orihime lifted one shoulder, nodding. "I guess so."

"It helps to have a thick skin in this business, so don't let anyone ruffle you, girl," Tyra said with a wave of her hand, her bracelets clanking.

"Oh, it's ... yes, that."

Tyra leaned forward, anticipating something juicy. "They don't tease you for being youngest?"

"Oh, no. Not ... no."

"Well, we know that some of them are considerably older than you."

Orihime blurted out giggling before clapping a hand over her mouth. She nodded, brown eyes wide, suppressing any noise.

Tyra looked at her shrewdly, then shook her head. "Don't worry about them, Orihime. You just do it your way. You each have something different to offer the modeling world. I've seen identical twins bring polar opposite traits to the competition." She smiled. "Naiveté can be a strength, and you can use it for the camera."

Orihime nodded, a little confused in a few ways.

* * *

Nemu's talk with Tyra followed Orihime's. The artificially created woman sat on the cushion across from the super model, dark eyes alert, posture erect, awaiting Tyra's query.

Tyra smiled at her. "You always seem so expectant, Nemu. What are you waiting on, girl?"

"At the moment, your questions. Tyra."

Tyra arched one eyebrow. "Part of being a top model is knowing when to relax, Nemu. You need to soften up some, just around the eyes. You can smile when the camera isn't around!"

Nemu smiled a bit, allowing her head to tilt to one side.

"See there!" Tyra grinned heartily. "That livens you up! At judges panel we're always saying 'That Nemu hits her poses, but she just drops after she's done.' Even in front of the camera you need to find a more naturalness in your face at times. Do you know what I'm saying?"

Nemu processed this for a moment, before nodding. A generous smile crossed her face, her posture leaning forward just a little.

"See there!" Tyra's smile brightened at her accomplishment. "As good as you hit those poses, it's a shame there's not more warmth radiating from ya. Know what I mean?"

Nemu nodded slowly, crossing her legs beside her, ankles tucked to her shorts by her. "I thought competing would help fill the gaps in my composition. My father is a scientist. He thought it would complete my," she smiled quickly, "make up."

"Oh, so trying-out was your father's idea? Were you in favor of it?" Tyra asked hopefully.

"Yes."

Tyra's eyes narrowed on the contestant. "You can say no, if you want to, Nemu."

"No. I wanted to try-out."

"Good." Tyra raised an eyebrow. "You're still a little stiff. Some people have a dry sense of humor, but I don't think I've seen you with any humor at all. Do you consider yourself a serious person most of the time, Nemu?"

"Yes."

Tyra wasn't satisfied. "But you do laugh, right?" She waved a hand at her. "Go ahead! Laugh!" Tyra threw her head back and laughed loudly. "See?"

Nemu smiled and giggled, then laughed fully, one hand covering her mouth -- as she'd some girls do.

"See? Not so bad to lighten up some, is it?"

"No."

"Good." Tyra nodded. "We'll prove Nigel wrong. Am I right?"

Nemu nodded.

* * *

Tyra watched Yoruichi settle on the cushion across from her two contestants later, curling her legs beneath her and leaning towards her with a mischievous smile on her lips.

"How are you, Yoruichi?" she asked, smiling back at her.

"I'm just fine, Tyra. How're you?"

Tyra's smile rose at one corner. "I'm good. You're a strong contender, aren't you?"

Yoruichi nodded. "I think so."

Tyra nodded, watching her levelly. "We've had some pretty strong contenders in the past, some really witchy ones, too, some that went to great lengths to undermine their competitors. Not you?"

Yoruichi shook her head, smile growing.

"Hmm. You're all friends here?"

"I'd say, yes."

Tyra took a deep breath. "I look at you and see confidence. You'll need that in this business, especially as a woman of color."

Yoruichi gave her a rare frown. "What's that got to do with anything, Tyra?"

"Oh, you know what I mean," Tyra said, giving her a knowing look.

"No..."

"As a woman of color pursuing a modeling career, you have to --"

"I'm not hung up on that, Tyra. I don't see it as a '_problem_.'"

Tyra frowned. "You don't?"

"No. Why should I?"

"Oh, well, that's ... good. Empowering."

Yoruichi rolled her eyes, watching Tyra with sympathy. "You're not hung up on it, are you?"

Tyra quirked a smile. "Of course not. But as a woman of color, do you see any obstacles you must surmount to become The Next Top Model?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. I'm happy with who I am. Are you happy with who you are, Tyra?"

The super model frowned at her for a moment. "Of course."

Yoruichi leaned closer, gold eyes catching the light just enough to make two cameramen reach for the nearby box of tissues. "I possess exotic qualities that I know how to use, and have a good man who appreciates me." Her tone took on a melodious quality that made the hair stand along Tyra's spine. "Why are you trying to make me a victim?"

"Victim?" Tyra echoed, forcing a smile. "Well, no, no, but --"

"Do you feel inadequate as a woman? Is that why you need the spotlight, Tyra?"

"Of course not," Tyra huffed, visibly flustered.

"Do you feel inadequate as a model?" Yoruichi pressed, eyes softening but not entirely losing their amusement.

"As a model? Of course not," Tyra said with a contrived giggle. "I've been doing this for --"

"Is it the weight gain?" Yoruichi asked, voice lowering.

Tyra's left eye twitched as she plastered on a smile, the lightness in her words fixed. "Honey, my weight has been up and down and I always know how to work it. Uh-_huh_!" She gave an exaggerated nod.

"Because I've seen some stunning women who were more than slender, and _they_ never let a little extra weight get in their way."

Tyra worked up a better smile. "Weight has nothing to do with beauty," she stammered.

Yoruichi grinned, sitting back on the cushion. "Of course not."

"Beauty comes first from the inside."

Yoruichi nodded. "See. That's why you're a _professional_!"

Tyra nodded, watching the contestant warily, making a '_cut_' gesture with one hand to the cameraman. "I think you've got what it takes for this competition, girl."

Yoruichi nodded, smiling back.

* * *

After Tyra had wrapped up her interviews, said her goodbyes, and packed off in her limousine, the contestants decided to try out the Shiba house's new pool, but they didn't quite get that far.

"Tyra mail!" Orihime sang out as they passed the kitchen. The Living girl snatched the purple and gold envelope from where it was perched on the bowl of apricots and waved it.

"Read it!" Nemu said, practicing her spontaneity.

The other four contestants looked to her, shocked.

Nemu allowed a small smile. "Please."

Orihime's attention went back to the note. "'Today's your day in the sun. Remember to not only be aware of your surroundings, but have fun. This shoot is going to draw a line in the sand between who's got what it takes and who doesn't.'" She looked to each of them. "Sand?"

"It's probably not real sand," Rangiku said with a nod. "Maybe it's just metaphorical sand."

"Oh."

They all leaned closer and looked at the bottom of the note, then glanced around the kitchen for the brass clock on the wall.

"Twenty minutes," Nanao said. "Not much warning!"

* * *

The limousine bearing the five contestants circled before the one-hundred-twenty foot high scenic waterfall that emptied into the small blue lake that fed a slow shallow river outside Rukongai. The clearing in the mature broadleaf trees was surrounded with immense, smooth gray boulders around the sandy shore, the water rippling blues and white splashes in the scorching sunlight of the mid-morning.

The car stopped before the clearing where cameras, lighting fixtures, a hair and make-up station, and a small canopy was set up, and let the contestants out.

Jay Manuel came out from under the canopy, dressed in khaki pants and a navy tank top, a _TNTM_ baseball cap on his head, already feeling the day's heat. He grinned back at the contestants as they assembled before the clearing.

"Hallo, ladies!"

"Hello, Jay!" they answered.

"Today, as you can see, we're on the opposite end of the thermostat from the elimination shoot at Mt. Fuji," he said, gesturing to the area behind him. "Today you'll get your first real taste of what an actual photo shoot is like -- no more walk-thrus, no more amateur hour." He smiled at Orihime as her face dropped with realization. "What's wrong, princess?"

Orihime shook her head.

"You sure?"

"Yes. All ready, Jay!" she said with more excitement than she felt.

"Good." Jay pointed to an area that was sectioned off with hanging beach towels. "Over there you're all going to find your swimsuits, and after you change you're going to have your first professional level photo shoot." He grinned at the discomfort slipping over Orihime and Nanao's faces. "Don't worry; Nigel is your photographer today, and you've all worked with him before."

The contestants nodded, relieved, a little.

"Now, the trick here is to listen to the photographer, and do as he says," Jay said. "We're looking to contrast textures today. We have a beautiful waterfall, warm sand, a big rock, and your skin." He glanced to Yoruichi. "And swimsuits. Any questions?"

Heads bobbled among the contestants.

Jay nodded. "Okay. Into your suits. Nemu, you'll be first."

* * *

Nemu stepped before the cameras fifteen minutes later, her hair fluffed into a full bob, her swimsuit a two-piece black leather-look of boy-cut bottoms and halter top accented with gold, skin sprayed with almond tanning oil. She stood between Nigel and the small lake, the waterfall behind her in the distance, one of the larger boulders nearby to her right.

Nigel nodded, dressed in an uncharacteristic gray t-shirt and blue jeans. "Very nice, Nemu," he said, holding the camera in one hand and pointing to the meticulously raked sand with the other. "We'll try some shots of you kneeling first, before the sand gets mussed, and then you can pose on your own, okay?"

"Okay, Nigel," she said, dropping to her knees. "What do you want me to do?"

Nigel stepped back so he was even with the cameraman filming the set. "Go ahead and do some poses on your own."

Nemu went through a series of standard poses, with Nigel coaching emotion from her with each, until he finally stopped and sighed.

"Nemu, we see your smile, but it's just not reaching your eyes," he said in exasperation. "This is a beautiful spot, picture-postcard waterfall, you look great -- I just need some passion in your face. Can you do that?"

Nemu hesitated, her lower lip quivering slightly. "No."

Nigel nearly dropped his camera. "Did you say _no_?"

Nemu's programming jumped back on track. "I can." With an effort, she offered a warmer smile, striking several poses he hadn't yet seen.

"Okay," he said, nodding, pleased with the change in demeanor. "Stand up and try a few more, and you can move around more, use the rock, if you like."

After Nemu's reasonably successful shoot, it was Orihime's turn. She eased out from the changing area, a beach towel wrapped around her orange and white gingham print bikini, her skin lightly misted with tanning oil, an uneasy smile on her face.

Nigel gave her a longsuffering smile, and waved her over.

Watching Orihime's photo shoot from the sideline was the other contestants, with Nemu wiping off the oil from her skin with a towel. They looked on as Orihime shyly went through her poses, sheepishly at first, and then with more abandon as she built a sand castle and dug a moat around it before striking a series of carefree poses against the rock.

Yoruichi shrugged as Nigel directed Orihime. "She's got the innocent-look down." She situated the plunging bra portion of her goldenrod yellow one piece over herself better. She nodded to Orihime. "You've got to admit that."

Rangiku held one hand to her brow to shade her eyes, nodding. "Definitely not hootch."

After Orihime's shoot, consisting of mostly sand castle-building and perky jumping around, Nanao took her turn.

Her one-piece suit was a low-cut teal that emphasized her figure, but did little to up-play her smaller bust-line. She did a few poses in the sand that had been carefully raked, and then did a series of shots where she leaned against the rock, giving Nigel and the camera a sultry look.

"Very good, Nanao," he said, studying her for a moment. "Can you see without the glasses?"

This brought Jay to the set, waving his hands. "No, no. We've decided from day one of this competition that Nanao is to leave her glasses on." He looked to the petite woman. "Haven't we?"

Nanao nodded, smiling a little more.

Nigel shrugged. "Okay, but I think it would add tremendously to the whole image."

Jay shook his head. "Let's not risk it."

Nanao went through the rest of her frames, her poses typical.

To the side of the set, Yoruichi sprayed the body oil on her legs in preparation for her turn before the cameras.

"Don't do the front of your legs too much," Nanao said as she brushed a towel along her arms to remove the oil. "The sand sticks."

Yoruichi nodded, and then looked to the waterfall, where several figures were watching from one side, nearly indiscernible at the distance, looking small beside the enormity of the falls. "Nemu, who've we got today?"

Nemu wiped the last of the oil from the back of Orihime's arms, who was in turn brushing oil off Nanao's back with a towel. Nemu followed Yoruichi's gaze. "Vice Captains Kira and Hisagi and Captain Kuromaru," she said, eyes roving to the figures in nearer the trees, "and Vice Captain Abarai and Ichigo Kurosaki over there," she said, pointing to another clump of trees where two figures were arguing.

Nanao's violet eyes frowned slightly as she looked in the distance. "Oh."

Rangiku looked to Nemu. "Anyone else?"

Nemu made a more thorough study of the trees, her eyes resting on another spot where two figures were sitting on a boulder farther away near the falls. "Captains Ukitake and Kyouraku are over there."

Nanao's attention went to the boulder, smiling, adjusting her glasses as Orihime nearly knocked her over while wiping off her back with the towel.

"Sorry," Orihime murmured.

Jay joined them, his shoulders already starting to redden. "You're up, Yoruichi."

Yoruichi took her place before Nigel and the cameras, smiling back at him and the crew as she smoothed her yellow-gold suit.

"Now, I want a few shots with you in the sand, whatever you want to do, and then you can work around the set, use the rock if you like," Nigel said.

Yoruichi nodded. She knelt in the sand, with one knee up, put her hands over her head in a stretch, and arched her back, letting her hair fall through her hands.

"Very good. Aztec-ish," Nigel said, snapping photos, following her as she switched positions.

After a few more photos, Yoruichi leaped to the top of the twelve foot boulder and squatted into a graceful, lethal-looking attack pose, the purplish highlights caught in her hair by the strong sunlight.

Every member of the crew stopped what they were doing and stared at her.

"Did she just jump up there?" Jay asked, dumbfounded.

Nigel nodded, the camera limp in his hands.

Yoruichi smiled back at them, tilting her head to one side, moving to silhouette her profile against the waterfall behind her.

"Very acrobatic," Nigel said, clearing his throat and remembering to take the pictures.

Two boxes of tissues later, and a three minute break for the crew, and it was Rangiku's turn.

Rangiku's skin was already oiled, her deep v-cut hot pink one-piece suit stretched over her, strategic cut-aways at her navel and cleavage, the gold ties glinting in the sun. She pushed her hair over her shoulder, her eye make-up more exaggerated than she usually wore it. She put her hands on her hips, looking back at Jay, Nigel, and the crew.

Nigel grinned. "You've watched the other girls, so you know how the set goes."

Rangiku nodded. She knelt to one knee, pulling her hair to one side of her shoulder, giving the camera a flirty look as Nigel snapped shots. She switched poses over the next few moments, bringing murmurs of appreciation and nosebleeds through the crew, never completely crossing the line between model and vulgarity, and then moved to the rock.

She looked to the top of the boulder, and then decided against it. She turned to face Nigel, leaning her back on the smooth cooler rock surface, palms pressed to the stone at her sides, sending Nigel one of her better come-hither looks.

"Very good, Rangiku," he said with a grin, snapping pictures as she turned to one side, angling out the bottom of her swimsuit and looking at him over her shoulder.

From afar came a distant but clear "Woo-hoo!"

Jay looked to the sound, unable to pinpoint the owner of the call in the trees, and then motioned to one of the more muscular crewmen on the set. "Clear the area."

The crewman nodded and left.

Rangiku finished her set and Jay waved the other models over to join them, all now wrapped in beach towels.

"Good shoot today, girls," he said, nodding to them all.

Nigel smiled at them. "Very good. Professional, you all took direction well, and I've personally seen improvement from each of you."

Jay clasped his hands together. "So, now you can head on back to the Shiba house, and we'll have panel tonight," he said, raising an eyebrow, "and one of you will being going home."

The contestants nodded, looking at each other with hope and misgivings.

* * *

Miss Jay sat behind the judges table that evening in his finest little black dress that wasn't so little at all, looking past Tyra and down the white silk covered table to where the guest judge sat on the far side of Nigel.

"But that's not standard military issue, is it?" he asked, waving a finger at Shunsui Kyouraku's flowered haori.

The shinigami captain pulled out the pink garment, smiling widely from beneath his straw hat. "Oh, no. I just find it incredibly comfortable. I think everyone should wear one."

Uryuu couldn't suppress a grin. "Perhaps the Shinigami Women's Association can come up with a better design for your uniform."

Shunsui chuckled. "I don't think Old Man Yama will be allowing any changes in the standard uniform."

"Maybe he hasn't seen the right variation yet," Uryuu said.

Shunsui scratched his neck that was in need of a shave. "He's not too accepting to changes."

Tyra leaned across Nigel, making her navy blue leather corset creak. "Are you in the market for a new uniform?" She snapped upright, gesturing one set of perfectly manicured fingernails to Uryuu, nearly clipping Miss Jay's nose. "Because we have our very own designer right here. He could probably give your people some ideas."

Uryuu felt a little awkward at the comment, in light of what he knew, and worked up a half grin for Shunsui.

"Well, hello down there, Quincy," Shunsui called, touching a finger to his hat.

"No, it's Ur-yuu," Tyra pronounced carefully.

Shunsui smiled and shrugged, and looked to Nigel sitting beside him. "So, you do this for a living? Take pictures of beautiful women?"

"Yes, I'm a fashion photographer," Nigel said with a nod.

Shunsui elbowed him in the ribs, grinning. "Lots of fun, eh? Keeps a man busy, hmm?"

Nigel smiled, shaking his head. "I'm a married man."

"Oh?" Shunsui sighed. "Too bad. Your wife is all right with this? Doesn't get jealous?"

"No. She's in the business, too. A model."

"Oh, well, you're just lucky all around, aren't you?"

Nigel nodded slowly. "I suppose."

They all looked to the doorway as the five contestants entered, each wearing an off-the-shoulder summer dress in bright gauze, strappy sandals laced up their legs, skin a generous pink-tan from the afternoon photo shoot.

Tyra popped up from her seat and swiftly rounded the table, smiling at them. "Hey, hey! All sun-kissed, aren't ya?"

"Yes, Tyra," the called back, smiling, still smelling of almond tanning oil and aloe vera gel.

Tyra smoothed her white mini skirt, smiling as she introduced the standard judges panel before angling one hand to the guest judge. "We also have the estimable Captain Ki-rak-oo. Kira-koo. Kyouraku."

"Shunsui will be fine, Tyra," he said easily, nodding to her and then the contestants, grinning at Nanao, who smiled wider at him from her place in the line.

"Okay. Shun-sway." Tyra addressed the row of five girls, reciting the prizes for winning The Next Top Model, emphasizing the money and contract. "You had fun in the sun today. A swimsuit photo shoot. Our own Nigel Barker was your photographer." Behind her Nigel waved from the table. "So, let's see your best shots today."

Tyra took her place behind the table, smiling at the contestants. "Orihime, you're up first."

Orihime made a bouncy walk down the runway carpet, ending in a stop that made her pink and white gauze dress swish around her, nose sun-pink.

"Well, you've got the hips working," Tyra said. "Let's see your best shot today."

They all looked to the screen, where Orihime's photo appeared. In it she kneeled in the sand behind a sand castle, filling out the orange and white gingham frilled two-piece suit, sun on her face as she looked skyward, eyes half-closed, smiling.

"You're eyes are almost closed in this one, but it's a good smile," Tyra said, looking back to the contestant. "Happy, fun. Very teen."

Orihime smiled.

Uryuu looked from Orihime to the screen and back again, reaching for the box of tissues near Tyra.

"Good photo." Tyra nodded. "Thank you, Orihime. Next, let's see Nemu."

Said girl came down the runway, passing Orihime, her skin the same shade of tan as it had been earlier before the photo shoot, despite her time in the sun. She stopped before the judges table, the bright blue skirt of her sundress settling around her. She offered a small smile. "Hello."

Tyra looked surprised. "Well, hello, Nemu. Taking the initiative, I see," she said, winking. "Okay, let's see your best shot from today."

They all looked to the screen as Nemu's photo appeared, of her kneeling in the sand in the black two-piece suit, both arms crooked behind her head, an unusually blissful look on her face, eyes narrowed in a semi-smile.

"Well, this is much warmer than a lot of your other photos we've seen," Tyra said, nodding, smiling. "Did you have fun with this shoot?"

Nemu considered this for a moment. "No."

"No?" Tyra repeated, surprise evident.

"No. Not fun, but it was pleasant."

Nigel shrugged.

Shunsui chuckled, shaking his head.

Miss Jay sighed. "Hmph. I'll take pleasant any ol' day. Nice photo, Nemu," he said snapping his fingers.

"Thank you, Nemu," Tyra said. "Next up, let's see Yoruichi."

Yoruichi did a modest power walk up the carpet, laces swinging as she stopped before the table in her pink sundress pulled low around her shoulders. She sent Shunsui a smile, and looked to Tyra.

"Working that walk, but still reserved," Tyra said, lifting an eyebrow. "Let's see your best photo, Yoruichi."

On the screen flicked the photo, with Yoruichi crouching on the rock, one elbow on her raised knee, arm relaxed over it, her pose hiding much of her golden-yellow one-piece suit except the plunging top, eyes on the camera, daring it to move.

Tyra's left eye twitched. "Very good, very strong," she said, eyes sliding from the photo to Yoruichi. "You know your angles."

"Thank you, Tyra."

Tyra looked back to the line. "Nanao, come on down here, girl!"

Nanao did her smooth walk down the carpet in her plum sundress, passing Yoruichi, hitting her halt at the end of the runway. She smiled back at Shunsui first, and then the rest of the judges.

"Hmm, good walk," Tyra said, nodding. "Let's see your best shot, Nanao."

All eyes went to the screen where Nanao's photo appeared, with her leaning against the boulder in silhouette, looking to the camera with a soft smile, a slight glint off her glasses. Shunsui smiled wide, nodding.

"Oh, this is very good," he said, pointing to the screen. "Much better up close."

A blush crept over Nanao's face as her gaze shifted to Tyra.

The super model nodded. "Yes, it is good. Thanks, Nanao."

Nanao turned back down the runway as Tyra called Rangiku to the table.

Rangiku stopped before the model in her powder blue dress, her pendant lost in her neckline stretching across her shoulders, smiling at the judges. Tyra nodded to her. "Good walk, nice long strides."

"Thank you."

"Let's see your best shot from today," Tyra said, turning to look at the screen.

On it appeared Rangiku leaning against the boulder, shoulders slightly forward, her pink one-piece swimsuit tested to load capacity as she lifted her face in a tantalizing smile, the sun playing off her oiled shoulders.

"Hmm, very good. Love those brights in your hair," Tyra said, left eye twitching a little more. "Thank you, Rangiku."

When Rangiku had joined the other contestants in line, Tyra dismissed them, and turned to the judges, smiling at Shunsui.

"We've got our work cut out for us, gentlemen."

She settled behind the table between Miss Jay and Nigel and pulled the first photo from the stack. "Nemu," she said, placing the photo of the contestant in her black leatherette swimsuit on the top.

"She was much improved today," Nigel said, nodding at the photo. "Not quite warm, but definitely more expressive."

Tyra smiled, her voice lightening. "We talked this morning. I think she came around."

Uryuu and Shunsui each grinned, shaking their heads.

Tyra noticed. "No, I actually think I got through to her. I think she'll be more open now."

Uryuu only sighed, waiting for the next photo.

Tyra smiled down at the photo of Nemu. "It is better, but her eyes are almost closed, and we miss the full smile."

Nigel nodded. "While she _can_ pose, she has to be _told_ exactly how to pose. It doesn't come natural to her."

"She follows orders," Shunsui said, chuckling. "You can't fault her for not knowing naturally what to do."

"That's part of modeling," Nigel said. "They're not puppets. She's got to pull her own strings."

Tyra slid the next photo out. They all looked to Yoruichi's pounce-ready position on the boulder, the sun catching the indigo-violet in her hair. "This girl has what it takes."

"She's got enough for several models," Miss Jay agreed. "Maybe too much? More Catwoman than cat-like?"

Nigel was nodding. "I see that, too. Feline, in every sense of the word."

Shunsui sighed. "You have no idea."

"She's got the attitude and armor for this line of work," Tyra said, eyes dropping over the photo, "but some of her poses -- the ones that lack the hootch-factor -- are mostly crouches. I'd like to see her open up. Extend her body more. Maybe it's a sign of feeling vulnerable."

Uryuu shrugged. "I don't think it's vulnerability."

Shunsui grinned, shaking his head.

Tyra pulled out another photo. "Moving on." She positioned the photo before her as all eyes looked to it. "Orihime."

"She's a doll," Miss Jay said automatically. "She's got the girl-next-door look and just enough uninhibited spirit to make her appeal to teenage girls without tramping 'em out."

Nigel nodded. "She finally came around for the shoot. A little unsure of herself, nervous about the suit, but she has a well-proportioned body for her age, and her timidity actually works with her poses. She doesn't try to strike a pose she's too uncomfortable with, and she sticks to what she likes. It works for her."

Uryuu was leaning across Miss Jay for a better look at Orihime's photo, crowding the man in the black dress, oblivious to everything but the picture of the girl with the sand castle.

"There's not a crude bone in her body," he said, frowning. "She'll never give you a hootch pose. She's pure fun. That's it."

"Yeah, well, she looks like fun," Miss Jay said with a smile.

Uryuu sat back and glared at him. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"I'm saying she's got a rack, and a pose some girls can do is gonna look like a lot more when she does it." Miss Jay nodded.

Uryuu looked to the photo, reaching for another tissue. "She's sweet."

Tyra glanced from Uryuu to Nigel.

Nigel shrugged. "They're both right," he said. "She's in."

Shunsui nodded. "I like her smile."

Tyra found Nanao's photo and put it on the table before her. "Nanao. Now she's --"

"Absolutely lovely," Shunsui said, swiping the photo from Tyra as soon as she set it down. He smiled at the picture of his vice-captain, standing against the rock, hands folded behind her, one knee bent, with the sole of her foot flat to the boulder.

"It's really not much of a pose," Nigel said, shaking his head. "It was the best of this afternoon. She seemed to clam up. She lacked the unreserved attitude she had for the lingerie shoot."

"Oh?" Shunsui looked to the stack of photos beneath Tyra's hands. "Do you have those?"

"No. Only the swimsuit photos today." Tyra nodded to Nigel. "She has the walk, the look, but since the commercial with the male model, she's been a bit, well, homesick, I think."

"Oh?" Shunsui studied the photo closer, smiling back at Nanao. "Homesick, eh?"

"When I talked with her this morning I got the feeling she'd lost some of her hunger for the competition," Tyra said, looking to the photo in Shunsui's hands. "Maybe it was just me, but I got that feeling."

"Hmm, then she should go home."

They all looked to the guest judge.

Nigel frowned at him. "You think Nanao should be out?"

Shunsui shrugged, sighing. "If she doesn't want to be here, yes. But if she wants to stay," he said, his thumb rubbing against the picture's edge as he carefully considered the woman in it, "then she should stay."

"Okay then," Tyra said, clearing her throat and pulling out the last photo. "Rangiku."

Nigel leaned closer, nodding at the picture of Rangiku leaning her back to the boulder, skin glistening in the right spots under the sun, smiling invitingly at the camera. "Excellent photo, knows her body and how to pose it best."

"Better than Yoruichi?" Tyra asked, refusing the twitch that threatened her left eye.

Nigel shrugged slowly. "Close, different, both of them. Yoruichi has an athleticism Rangiku doesn't quite have, and Rangiku brings that 1950s pin-up girl style with hints of wholesomeness. And Orihime's still got her hat in the ring. She's right up there with them."

"Of course she is," Uryuu said, dabbing at his nose with a tissue.

Tyra nodded as Miss Jay hovered over her shoulder.

"She gives you a full shot. Not scrunched up like Catwoman," Miss Jay said with a wave of his hand.

"Rangiku extends her body, you see more, yet she's still comfortable in herself." Nigel's eyes remained on the pink swimsuit. "She doesn't look like she's trying too hard."

Tyra placed Nemu's photo before her and then gently tugged the picture of Nanao out of Shunsui's hands, smiling at him. "So, our two weakest."

Shunsui frowned a little, but said nothing.

"Nemu did better this week," Nigel said.

"Hmm, and Nanao has done better any other week," Miss Jay said, raising an eyebrow at the photos.

The judges exchanged looks for a few long moments. Shunsui sighed, not wanting to voice his opinion either way.

"Well," Tyra said, "I guess we've decided? Hmm. Okay, gentlemen."

* * *

The contestants were called back into the room, waiting anxiously in their sundresses and sandals, looking nervously to the judges table. Tyra had positioned herself in front of the table, photos in hand, watching them with her serious smile.

"Five beautiful girls stand before me, but only one can be the winner of The Next Top Model," Tyra said dramatically. "I have only four photos in my hands. If I do not call your name, you must go back to the Shiba house, pack your things, and ..." She looked lost for words for a moment, blinking quickly. "And await your ride home." She turned over the first photo in her hand. "Rangiku."

Rangiku smiled and walked hastily down the carpet, taking her photo. "Thank you."

"Very good poses, all of them," Tyra said, smiling back. "It was a tough decision this elimination."

Rangiku nodded and got back in line.

Tyra looked at the other contestants. "Yoruichi."

The dark-skinned woman came down the runway to receive her photo. "Thanks, Tyra."

"You've got the look, girl."

Yoruichi turned back down the runway to stand beside Rangiku.

Tyra looked to the contestants. "Orihime!"

The Living girl trotted down the carpet, smiling and bowing as Tyra handed her the photo.

"Lots of life, Orihime."

Orihime smiled, and went to stand beside Rangiku.

Tyra's attention went to Nemu and Nanao, and then called them to stand before her. Shunsui looked on, sighing.

Tyra turned to Nemu. "You showed improvement this shoot with your expressions, your emotions. A big step, I think, but was it enough?"

Nemu looked to the side, her gaze dropping momentarily before raising again to Tyra.

The super model looked to Nanao. "You had a strong start, but somewhere something seemed to flicker out. That fiery spark."

Nanao looked to Shunsui, who gave her a smile.

Tyra took a deep breath, not hearing the chair move behind her as she turned over Nemu's photo.

"Congratulations, Nemu, you're still in the running for The Next Top Model."

"Thank you, Tyra," Nemu said, squeezing Nanao's hand for a brief second before turning to join the other contestants in line.

"I'm sorry, Nanao," Tyra said lowly. "You've been a good competitor, but for this shoot you didn't bring it. This time -- Oh, ouch!"

Shunsui carefully pushed Tyra to one side, nearly toppling her, and gently took Nanao's arm, turning her back down the runway carpet. "Let's go home, sweet Nanao."

She nodded, this time not minding as his arm settled around her shoulders, the haori encompassing her small form.

He tossed a wave to the other contestants, who returned the gesture.

"Hey! You can't just take her out of here!" Tyra called.

To deaf ears.

"Let 'em go," Miss Jay said with a yawn from the judges table.

And then there were four.

* * *

**Next Elimination: Black & White Photo Shoot**

**Who's The Next Top Model? Poll is up!**


	22. Meanwhile XI

Hanatarou stood on the front porch of Division Nine's vice-captain's quarters, arms clutching a stack of portfolios, looking more nervous than usual. He'd barely knocked on the door than it opened.

Hisagi looked back at him, face lighting up. "Good. Thanks." He snatched the portfolios and began closing the door.

Hanatarou got a glimpse of black and white robes inside. "Can I stay?" he asked, foot in the doorway.

Hisagi frowned. "Captains only."

Hanatarou peeked inside. "Vice-Captains Kira and Abarai are here."

"And vice-captains. No ..." Hisagi tried to remember the Fourth Division member's position, "under ranks."

"Aw, let him stay," Shunsui called from his seat on the couch beside Ukitake. "It'll keep him quiet."

Hisagi nodded and let Hanatarou in, who grinned sheepishly, looking over the collection of captains and vice-captains filling every chair and the two couches in the room. He gave the occupants another look, frowning. "Not all the captains are here."

Zaraki and Shunsui exchanged looks.

"Big meeting at the Shinigami Women's Association this afternoon," Ukitake said as Hisagi shut the door. "Important stuff."

Hanatarou knelt on the floor beside Izuru's chair, looking out at Marechiyo, Renji, Shunsui, Hitsugaya, Zaraki, and Ukitake before glancing at his host who was sifting through the portfolios, and then to Kurotsuchi kneeling behind the blank television set, mumbling savagely as he yanked on cables.

"Pass them out," Shunsui said, extending a hand as Hisagi stood still holding the portfolios.

"I think we should do this systematically, to make sure we don't miss anyone," Hisagi said, hands tight on the photo books.

Renji sighed. "Don't turn this into a delegation. Just pick one and let's get started."

Hisagi shuffled through the portfolios, smiling at the photos on the covers.

"Shouldn't we wait until everyone is here?" Renji said, looking around.

Hisagi found the portfolio he was looking for. "Seventh Division and Vice-Captain Kotsubaki aren't coming. Way behind in paperwork."

A collective groan went through the room.

"What kind of host are you, Hisagi?" Zaraki asked, waiting impatiently. "You got no manners." He looked to the smallest occupant of the room. "Hanatarou, fetch us another round."

Hanatarou glanced to Hisagi, got a nod, and jumped to his feet and disappeared into the kitchen area. He reappeared a moment later with his arms full of saké bottles and passed them out before settling again on the floor at Izuru's chair.

"Start at the beginning," Ukitake said, pulling the cork from his bottle of saké.

Hisagi nodded and took his seat near the couch. "Rukia Kuchiki." He held up the navy portfolio with the small woman's audition photo on it.

A murmur of chuckles went around the room.

Renji scowled at them, reaching for the portfolio. Hisagi held it away.

"She wasn't the first out," Renji said, standing up and making another grab at the photo book.

"Captain Unohana was the first one to return," Zaraki recalled.

Everyone looked to Hanatarou, who paled before blushing.

"I can't take Captain Unohana's personal belongings," he said meekly.

Zaraki growled. "You took everyone else's."

"She's my captain," Hanatarou stammered.

"I'd like to see her portfolio," Ukitake said, smiling before taking a long drink.

"It's good."

They all looked to Zaraki.

"You've seen it?" Shunsui asked incredulously. "Why you?"

Zaraki shrugged, making the couch heave. "A gentleman doesn't tell."

"A gentleman?" Ukitake shook his head. "What's that got to do with you?"

Zaraki let the comment slide.

"Besides, she's at the Women's Association meeting. She'd never know," Ukitake said, coughing a little as he downed another swig of saké. "What kind of emergency can the Women's Association have anyway?"

Everyone shrugged.

"Lack of women's bathrooms in Division Eleven," Marechiyo offered.

"Probably it," Shunsui said as Renji glared at Hisagi.

"Rule number one," Renji said, frowning at the portfolio, "nothing said here leaves. Agreed?"

A round of '_agrees_' went through the men. Renji sat on the second couch.

Hisagi opened the photo book, grinning, and then set it before the group on the low table between the couches and chairs. Every set of eyes -- including Kurotsuchi's, who'd abandoned the television -- looked greedily to Rukia's Gothic Lolita photo. A few disappointed sighs, polite '_cute'_s, and nods.

"Next?" Hisagi asked.

"Next," came the unanimous reply. Renji's hands tensed as Hisagi turned the portfolio page.

Rukia as Sailor Neptune.

"Sailor Moon Challenge," Izuru read from the caption.

"Kind of tame," Hisagi decided, holding the portfolio so Hitsugaya could see it better across the table.

Hitsugaya shrugged.

"Move on," Shunsui said, downing half his bottle of saké.

Hisagi turned another page, making Renji tense again.

They all leaned closer to see Rukia in her rabbit costume.

"A bunny?" Hanatarou said.

"Ugh, Chappy," Ichigo said, from suddenly beside Renji on the couch.

Everyone turned to look at him.

"Who let you in?" Hisagi asked. "Shinigami only."

Ichigo pulled at his black robes. "Hey, I'm a temp. I knocked, but no one answered, so I came in." He held up a shopping bag. "I brought potato chips."

A mumble of disagreement went through the shinigami.

"Let him stay," Ukitake said. "He brought chips."

Hanatarou dashed out of the room to return with another bottle of saké for Ichigo.

"He's underage," Izuru said, hiccupping already.

"Not here he isn't," Shunsui said, nodding to Hanatarou. "Get yourself one, kid."

Hanatarou looked uncertain for a moment, and then went back out of the room and returned with a small bottle of saké and a smile.

"That's better," Ukitake said.

Hisagi frowned as Hanatarou cautiously took his first drink. "Don't get sick on my rug."

Hanatarou nodded, holding his breath and swallowing.

Hisagi looked back down at the photo of Rukia in Chappy-wear, and turned the page.

They all looked on, nodding at Rukia in her green cheongsam.

Ichigo scowled and reached for the stack of portfolios beneath the table. Zaraki slapped his hand.

"Ow!"

"We're going in order," the large man grumbled.

"Tatsuki was out first. Chad said so." Ichigo looked around at them all. "Kuukaku was out second, Hiyori third."

"We don't have their portfolios," Hitsugaya explained.

"Where's Orihime's?" Ichigo put a hand to the portfolios as Zaraki's eyes narrowed at him. He withdrew his hand.

"She's not out yet, remember?"

"Oh."

Hisagi turned the last page of Rukia's portfolio, bringing a gasp from half the men, a chuckle from the other half. Both Renji and Ichigo grabbed for the portfolio. Renji won.

Shunsui had seen enough to be disappointed. "That's lingerie in the Living World? Not very sexy."

Zaraki closed a meaty hand around the portfolio. "I didn't see."

Renji didn't surrender the binder. "It's not sexy. It's disturbing."

Zaraki tugged. "Now, Abarai."

Renji reluctantly set the portfolio on the table and allowed it to be opened. All looked on at Rukia in her black leather straps, whip in hand, thigh-high boots adding to her height. Even Kurotsuchi groaned in disillusion.

Ichigo snapped the portfolio shut, shoving it to Renji.

"Well, I guess we're not missing anything from the Living World in the lingerie department here in Soul Society," Shunsui said with a sigh. "Hey, where's your illustrious captain, Renji?"

"Getting his hair done," Renji said, setting Rukia's portfolio beside the couch. "Not all the lingerie was like that. I think Rukia got the leftovers."

Hisagi placed the next portfolio on the table and opened it to see Yachiru in her Sweet Lolita dress, standing almost still.

"Oh, what a cute picture," Hanatarou said quickly with an ingratiating smile, taking a swig of saké.

"Very cute," Ukitake added.

"Like a little pink angel," Izuru said.

Zaraki looked to each of them. "'Course she's cute."

Shunsui nodded. "She'll be a gorgeous young lady someday."

Zaraki's attention jerked to him. "She's just a child."

Shunsui nodded, slugging down another third of his saké. "But she will grow up, you know. She won't stay little forever."

Hisagi looked to each of the men, and turned the page.

They all looked at Yachiru in the Sailor Mini Moon costume.

"Cute."

"Sweet."

"Adorable."

Zaraki nodded in agreement, glancing at Shunsui.

The man in the straw hat shrugged, grinning. "She's a real doll. It'll be hard to keep the guys off your stoop once she starts maturing."

"That won't be a worry for years to come," Zaraki said, eyes on the photo.

"No, but the time is a-coming," Shunsui said.

Ukitake shifted away from him on the couch.

"Of course, you'll probably only let her date prospects of her own caliber," Shunsui said, swishing the last of his saké in the bottom of the bottle. "A vice-captain, at least."

Zaraki sent a seething look around the table at the vice-captains.

Renji, Izuru, Hisagi, and Marechiyo grew uncomfortable.

Shunsui shrugged. "Or maybe a captain."

All eyes went to Hitsugaya, who was in the middle of a drink from his bottle. He gulped down the swallow.

"You sure you want to poke the bear?" Ukitake asked Shunsui lowly.

"Someone from your own Division," Shunsui said thoughtfully, ignoring Ukitake's caution, "or only someone who'd bested you in battle."

Everyone looked to Ichigo, who shook his head.

"I didn't say it," he said quickly as Zaraki trained a glare on him. Ichigo pointed to Shunsui. "He said it."

"Of course, there's lots of time yet," Shunsui said with a lazy smile. He nodded to Hisagi, who turned the portfolio page, hesitant at what photo was next.

"A pony," Hanatarou slurred, grinning from his half-finished bottle of saké. "I like ponies."

"Shut up," Zaraki snapped.

"Okay," Hanatarou said with a confused nod, eyes drooping.

"No lingerie with Yachiru?" Marechiyo asked as Hisagi turned the page to view Yachiru in her pink cheongsam and then the little German girl photo.

Zaraki was on his feet, one fist on Marechiyo's collar before anyone saw him move. "Listen here, you pervert, she's just a kid! What kind --"

"Hey, hey, an honest mistake," Shunsui said quickly, slowly standing, looking to Zaraki as the large captain nearly dangled Marechiyo from the floor. "I don't think he wanted to see her in her frillies."

"No. No. I don't want to," Marechiyo said hastily, nearly sputtering saké.

Zaraki lowered the vice-captain. "Better not."

Marechiyo brushed his collar straight, relieved. "I was only saying there was no photo."

Zaraki took his seat on the couch again. "She wasn't there. Tummy-ache."

"Oh," most of them said.

"Probably for the best," Ukitake said.

Zaraki nodded after a moment.

Renji looked to Hisagi. "Wasn't Ganju supposed to be here with some pictures?"

Hisagi nodded. "Yeah, _was_, but Battle Cat caught him snooping around the pool with the camera and nearly went bankai on him. He won't be coming by."

Marechiyo scratched himself. "Break out those chips, boy," he said to Ichigo.

"I'm not your boy," Ichigo spat back, but tossed a bag of snacks to the large man across the table.

Marechiyo caught it, crushing half the chips inside in his clutch, and ripped open the bag top.

Renji grabbed the second bag between him and Ichigo, reading the fanciful writing on the package. He frowned at the orange-haired guy. "Sour cream and onion flavor? You pansy."

Ichigo snatched the bag away. "Then don't eat 'em!"

"Next?" Hisagi asked.

Everyone around the table nodded, and he and set out the next portfolio, opening the first page to see Momo in her Shiro Lolita attire, a sweet smile on her face.

"Aw, how cute," Shunsui said as Hitsugaya leaned over the table, eclipsing Zaraki and Marechiyo's views.

Hitsugaya pulled the photo book closer, grinning, eyes widening until he remembered himself. He sat back, shrugging. "Of course she's cute." He turned the page.

Momo as Sailor Saturn, followed by the Butterfly photo.

"Ooh, pretty," Ukitake said.

"Very pretty," Izuru said with a smile and a nod, another hiccup catching his words.

Hisagi turned the page to see Momo in the light blue cheongsam, which was met by agreeable nods around the table, and then flipped the page to see the girl in her Little Bo Peep dress.

Hitsugaya pulled the portfolio closer, studying the photo as the others leaned over him.

"Little shepherd girl," Marechiyo said, burping loudly through a mouthful of chips. "All white and lacey. That's nice."

Hitsugaya elbowed him further away. "Stop breathing barbecue on me."

Marechiyo sat back, a greasy hand stuffed in the bag of chips.

Hitsugaya's fingers tapped the edge of the page, alternately scowling and smiling at the girl in the photo. "It's better than Rukia's."

Renji and Ichigo begrudgingly nodded.

Hitsugaya turned to the page to see Momo dressed as the colorful African doll. He grimaced, an expression shared by most of the others.

"Well, most of them were pretty," Shunsui said, shrugging.

Hitsugaya turned to the last page of the portfolio where Momo was engaged in a swordfight in the Boris Vallejo photo shoot.

"Ooh, Barbarian Queen," Izuru read, grinning as Hitsugaya angled the book so he could see the photo better. "She'd rip you up."

Shunsui leaned closer, pointing to where the shapely thigh, knee, and foot of Momo's attacker were visible. "Whose leg is that?"

"Rangiku," Renji and Hisagi said at the same time.

"No, it's not," Hitsugaya said, reddening.

"How do you know?" Ukitake asked him.

Hitsugaya looked back at the photo, eyes moving between Rangiku's leg and Momo in battle mode. "It's not."

Zaraki nodded. "It is."

Ichigo suddenly recalled something as Hitsugaya closed Momo's portfolio and Hisagi reached for another under the table. "Are all the photo books there?"

Zaraki glared at him. "The competition isn't over yet, Ryoka."

Ichigo grinned at him, chuckling. "Didn't you have _two_ representatives from Division Eleven?"

Zaraki made a threatening noise deep in his throat.

Renji leaned closer to Ichigo. "Don't poke the bear, fool."

Ichigo downed the last half of his saké, which was starting to catch up with him, judging from the amount of non-scowling he was doing.

Hanatarou got uneasily to his feet and fetched another load of saké for everyone, then collapsed to his knees near Izuru.

Hisagi opened the next portfolio.

"Hey, that's Captain," Marechiyo said through a mouth thick with barbeque-flavored chips. An ill look crossed his face, making it sag more than usual. "Maybe we shouldn't look at it."

"You had no reservations with the other photos," Kurotsuchi noted, leaning over his shoulder, making the pudgy man shy away. "She's fair game as much as the rest of them."

Hisagi glanced from Kurotsuchi to Marechiyo to Ukitake, who was visibly half-drunk and nearing the second half. He looked to Hanatarou. "You actually chanced going into Second Division for her portfolio?"

Hanatarou grinned goofily and nodded too many times, and said something none of them could understand.

Zaraki belched. "Gutsy and stupid."

Hisagi shook his head and passed off Hanatarou's incoherent explanation. He opened the portfolio to see Soifon in her Lolita outfit, the taunt look on her face severely out of place as she posed for the camera.

"Why is she dressed like a schoolgirl?" Marechiyo asked.

Izuru leaned heavily across the table to attempt reading the caption. "It says she's Sailor Lolita."

"Oh," Marechiyo added.

"It's softer than she usually is," Shunsui said with a sigh.

"Captain is pretty," Marechiyo said defensively, emboldened by the saké. "She's just mean. Still pretty."

Hisagi flipped the page to see Sailor Mars, which brought a few shrugs and nominal "_okays"_ from the other men. He turned the page.

"A panda?" Hanatarou blurted.

"Animal Instincts Challenge," Ichigo read, frowning. "What else?"

The next page was turned to see Soifon in her deep purple cheongsam, followed by her schoolgirl lingerie photo.

"What's up with the schoolgirl outfits?" Ukitake wondered as Hisagi turned the next page to Soifon dressed as a Mexican doll.

"Schoolgirl is about as far away as you can get from Captain Soifon," Zaraki said, watching the next photo flip.

"Agh!" Marechiyo nearly dropped his bag of chips at Soifon's photo as a vampire appeared. "Banshee!"

"It says vampire," Hisagi said, reaching for his neglected saké. "Yeah, she'd take a bite out of you." He flipped the page, surprised to see Soifon running the lemon flavored Chapstick across her lips, himself looking on in the background.

Zaraki's hand shot out and grabbed the portfolio before anyone could say anything. "What the hell are you doing there, Hisagi?"

All eyes turned to their host as he blinked quickly, not knowing whether to grin or make a break for it. "They needed male models."

"Why you?" Zaraki demanded as Ukitake and Izuru began a contagious chuckle that rippled through the others.

"Jay asked." Hisagi scowled at Renji, who laughed and slapped Ichigo on the back, nearly making the guy spit out his chips. "I wasn't the only one."

"Who else?" Shunsui and Kurotsuchi asked at the same time.

Hisagi held Zaraki's belittling stare. "Others."

"How long were you there?" Zaraki growled.

Hisagi cleared his throat. "Just the one photo shoot."

"And just Captain Soifon?"

Hisagi's grin escaped him. "No, Rangiku, too. And Yoruichi."

Kurotsuchi's attention bit into Hisagi. "Not Nemu?"

"No, sir."

Kurotsuchi nodded.

"Why you?" Renji wanted to know, finishing his saké. "Why not the rest of us?"

"There were others," Hisagi said, itching to turn the page.

"Who else?" Ichigo asked.

"Madarame," Hisagi said, watching Zaraki's focus narrow in on him. "Kensei."

"That's it?" Zaraki asked.

Hisagi nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Hmm."

Silence fell over the room as they all looked at Soifon's last photo.

"Next," Zaraki said.

Hisagi stuck the photo book under the table when no one reached for it.

Another portfolio, another round of saké brought in by a wobbly Hanatarou. He managed to drop a bottle into everyone's lap before crawling behind one of the couches and falling into an unconscious heap.

"Last one," Hisagi said, finishing off his saké with one hand while flipping open the portfolio with the other.

Nanao as Wa Lolita.

The men all nodded at the somewhat shapeless dress style.

"Not bad," Shunsui said. "The dress does nothing for her."

Hisagi turned the page to Nanao as Sailor Mercury.

"Pretty in blue," Ukitake mumbled, leaning one elbow on the couch, resting his temple in his hand, trying to stay awake.

Shunsui sat closer to the table. "Of course she is." He turned the portfolio to face him and moved on to the next page.

Nanao as a zebra. Shunsui frowned. "Don't like it. Why a zebra?"

"It's okay," Marechiyo said, slouching farther into his seat, face relaxed nearly to the point of sleep.

Shunsui waved him off and turned a few pages.

Nanao in her black and pink cheongsam, and then on the bed in her naughty secretary negligee.

Shunsui smiled, pulling the portfolio closer before anyone else could get a good look at it.

"You've got to share," Zaraki said. "That's a rule."

"We only had one rule, and Renji made that," Shunsui said, but eased the photo book back onto the table.

All eyes moved over Nanao's kneeling form as she pulled the pencils from her bed, giving the camera a flirty look, her blouse open and short skirt high on her thighs.

"It's ... tasteful," Kurotsuchi said, suppressing a chuckle.

"It's short," Renji said, elbowing Ichigo as the younger guy leaned on him, who smiled glibly on the verge of passing out.

Shunsui's study of the photo was interrupted by Hitsugaya's hiccup. They all looked to him to see the youngest captain tucked into the corner of his chair, sleeping.

Ichigo slid to the floor, leaning against the couch.

Shunsui scratched his stubbly cheek. "Just as I imagined," he mumbled, grinning at the photo.

He flipped the page.

Nanao as a French girl, then as _Hatchett_.

He frowned at the next photo, where Nanao was forcibly smiling into the camera, Chapstick in hand, Kensei on the snowmobile behind her.

"Not bad," he decided.

"She didn't want to do that shoot," Hisagi added helpfully.

"Hmm." Shunsui turned to page to see Nanao in full warrior garb, and then the next page where she was leaned to the rock in her teal swimsuit. He grinned at her low-key smile, sighing.

"Those were good," Renji said. "We haven't seen the samurai ones before."

"Nor the swimsuit," Kurotsuchi added. He looked to Hisagi. "That's two new photo shoots? Are we missing a portfolio?"

Shunsui closed Nanao's photo book and sat back on the couch with it in his lap, looking to his empty bottle. "I need a refill."

"Hanatarou's out," Hisagi said.

So were Hitsugaya, Ukitake, Izuru, Marechiyo, and Ichigo, who was now sleeping in a pile on the floor beside the couch half under the table.

Hisagi sighed and got to his feet. "Anyone else want anything?"

Everyone raised a hand. Hisagi left the room.

Kurotsuchi was calculating. "We didn't see any samurai or swimsuit photos of the other contestants. Someone was out that week."

Shunsui yawned. "It wasn't a swimsuit shoot. It was textures. I know. I judged it."

"Who else was out?" Kurotsuchi asked, looking to Renji, and then Hisagi as he returned with his arms full of saké bottles.

Renji and Hisagi exchanged looks, neither daring to look at Zaraki.

Kurotsuchi was holding Zaraki's stare. "Which photo shoot did you judge?"

Zaraki pulled the cork from his fourth bottle, looking shrewdly around at the remaining men still conscious.

Shunsui, Kurotsuchi, Hisagi, Renji.

Zaraki knew they were nearly at their sake' limits. "Let's discuss that over the next bottle."

* * *

**_Next Elimination: Black & White Photo Shoot._**

**_Who's The Next Top Model? Poll is up!_**


	23. Black and White Photo Shoot

Yoruichi and Rangiku reclined in the lounge chairs poolside late the next morning beneath the partial shade of the umbrella in the scorching sun that promised a blistering day. In fact, a few spots on them were still pink-past-tanned from the Textures Shoot the day before.

"She'll never get on," Yoruichi said with a giggle, watching Orihime in the pool with the inflatable mattress.

Rangiku nodded in agreement. "Why doesn't she try it in the shallower side?"

They watched as Orihime struggled with the bright yellow floatable, her sun-pink skin slathered up with coconut sun-block lotion, too slick to climb onto the mattress, her fumbling bringing more splashes and gasps than progress.

Orihime clung to the side of the yellow vinyl by one arm, the water beading on her shoulders as she brushed her wet hair out of her face. She coughed and flung a leg over the mattress, nearly freeing one-half of herself from the yellow bikini top as she managed to crawl atop the floatable.

Yoruichi shook her head as Orihime scrambled. "I don't know how she got this far."

Rangiku shrugged, resting her head back on the beach towel draped over the deck chair and closing her eyes against the sun's rays, moving a pink bikini strap as it dug into her shoulder. "You don't think she can win?"

Yoruichi considered the Living girl who was positioning herself carefully on the pool mattress, cautious as the floatable threatened to dislodge her. "I don't know how she gets around in the world, not to mention a competition like this."

Rangiku smiled, not looking to the darker-skinned woman. Yoruichi had decided to leave the top of her gold and black two-piece swimsuit on after catching a few sets of eyes gaping at them from the distant trees.

Mature male eyes.

"But you think she hasn't got a chance at winning?" Rangiku asked again.

In the pool Orihime had commandeered the yellow floatable into submission and was making herself comfortable.

Yoruichi shrugged. "I suppose she's got a chance. There's no denying that Quincy judge has it bad for her."

"Hmm. I think it's cute."

Yoruichi rolled her eyes, then let her gaze wander to the trees. "If that Ganju gets within twenty meters of the fence I'm going to do more than break his camera this time."

"Aggh!"

Yoruichi and Rangiku looked to the pool where Orihime had nearly unseated herself on the mattress as she looked into the shimmering waters.

"Nemu's walking on the bottom of the pool!" she cried, hands clutching the sides of the vinyl mattress.

They all watched as the top of Nemu's black head broke the water surface as she walked up the incline of the cement pool bottom to the shallow end where the four steps met the side.

"Eerie," Rangiku murmured as Nemu appeared in her dripping black one-piece swimsuit.

Nemu wore a slightly confused expression that was hinted with amusement as she stood beside the sunbathers. "I thought Ganju Shiba-san said workers from Rukongai installed this pool."

Yoruichi nodded. "He did. Is there a problem?"

Nemu smiled, something she'd been practicing more lately. "Yes, but it is in engineering, so I doubt anyone in Rukongai could be held responsible."

Rangiku and Yoruichi looked to each other, and then to the pool as a splash met their ears.

Orihime had disappeared, only to appear a few seconds later, storming up the pools steps as fast as her wet feet would carry her, past them and across the tiles until she wiped out near the house door, bouncing off one hip. She jumped to her feet, flung open the door and dashed inside.

Rangiku sighed. "Tyra mail?"

Yoruichi cocked her head to one side, looking at the sun high overhead. "Now?"

"Tyra mail!" Orihime called from the house.

Rangiku got to her feet and repositioned her pink bikini bottom over herself better as the cameraman nearby adjusted his lens. "Let's go."

Yoruichi stood and followed Rangiku to the house, glancing back at Nemu who trailed. "What's wrong with the pool?"

Nemu attempted a giggle. "The drain is in the shallow end."

Yoruichi sighed as they entered the house, shaking her head. "Rukongai's finest."

Orihime was in the kitchen area, waving the purple and gold envelope as she hopped from foot to foot. "I'll read it." She tore open the envelope and pulled the note out. "'You remaining four contestants are only two eliminations away from the finale. You've seen a lot in this competition, but sometimes seeing isn't believing.'" Her eyes dropped to the bottom of the note. "We have to be ready at noon."

They all looked to the brass clock on the wall.

"Two hours," Nemu said.

Orihime glanced back at the note, rereading it silently.

"Seeing isn't believing," Rangiku repeated.

Orihime frowned uneasily. "Like an illusion? A hallucination?"

"I've had my fill of hallucinations," Rangiku said pointedly, one eyebrow lifting.

Yoruichi nodded. "Let's get lunch first."

* * *

The limousine stopped before the large tented pavilion that had been set up near the temporary judging building, the off-white canvas sides covering twenty feet high all around, the inside floored with black canvas also, large circulation fans already on medium in the warming day that was becoming more so with the web of track-lighting overhead.

Two make-up stations were to the side of the runway raised a mere foot off the ground inside, painted with white wash, with cameras, sound, and light equipment set up already.

Yoruichi, Rangiku, Nemu, and Orihime entered through the side door, smiling as they saw the runway and studio equipment, and then at the Jays as the men stepped out from behind a curtained-off changing area.

"Hallo, girls!" Jay Manuel greeted, smiling, dressed in jeans and a plain khaki cotton shirt that was unbuttoned too far.

"Hi, Jay!" they returned.

"Hello, ladies," Miss Jay said, dressed all in white cotton pants and t-shirt.

"Hi, Miss Jay!" they said with a tepid squeal.

"I see you've all still got the color in your cheeks," Jay said as they nodded. "And do I smell coconuts?"

"I think you do, Jay," Miss Jay said, did an exaggerated sniff. "And almonds and baby oil, if I'm not mistaken."

The contestants giggled.

"Today you're going to learn all about working a formal dress," Jay said. "You did well with the kimonos, but now it's time to see how you walk in an evening dress, with accessories."

"And we ain't talkin' necklaces and ear-bobs," Miss Jay said. "We're talking red carpet, swag-draggin' fashion in heels and strut."

"Now you've all seen the red carpet award show fashions," Jay said presumptively, "and today you're going to mimic those walks, stole and all, your way. Bring your style, girls, because it's getting down to our final two."

The contestants all looked to each other apprehensively.

"And," Miss Jay said with all seriousness, "you're gonna do it blindfolded."

"What?" Orihime squeaked.

"Be-lind-fold-ed," Miss Jay enunciated slowly, grinning at them.

Orihime pushed her smile back into place.

"It's been done before, although not by us," Miss Jay said. "We've had contestants that have been legally blind, night blind, and some just plain unable to find the runway with the strobe lights on."

"In heels?" Rangiku asked.

"Heels, sequins, full-length gowns, the works," Miss Jay told her with a wave of his hand. "All of it, honey."

"Now," Jay said, smiling, "everyone to the changing area where you'll find your evening gowns and accessories. Of course you know the trick to this, right, ladies?"

The women shook their heads.

The Jays looked to each other.

"Should we tell them?" Jay asked Miss Jay.

Miss Jay put a finger to his chin and pretended to think about it. "Let's see how they do first. Then maybe we'll give them a hint."

Jay looked back to the contestants and shrugged. "Miss Jay said no hint. Let's see how you do!"

* * *

Behind the curtained off changing area the four contestants found a rack of gowns and accessories, two floor length mirrors, and a row of shoes.

Orihime pulled the pale peach sequined dress with a low-cut back from the rack, frowning at it as she turned the dress to determine which side was the front. "I wish he'd told us the secret."

"It can't be too hard," Yoruichi said as she found her teal dress dripping with bugle bead fringe.

"Just walk straight, I guess," Rangiku said, holding up her own dress.

"Count the steps," Nemu said, finding her hanger with dress.

They all looked to her.

"Count?" Yoruichi said.

Nemu nodded. "Yes. Given the length of the runway, count the steps as you approach the back of it, and use that count when you perform your runway walk."

Orihime nodded.

Rangiku looked to Yoruichi. "She's right."

They all smiled at Nemu. "Thanks."

* * *

Forty-five minutes later the contestants were ready, their hair combed smooth and catching the overhead mirrored disco ball, wearing heavy eye make-up, lips rouged in stop-light red, and standing atop four-inch spike heels to match their gowns.

Jay met them as the stepped from the make-station and stood towering over him.

"Lovely, absolutely lovely," he said, nodding as they looked down on him. "This challenge is in two parts; your blindfold walk, and then your accessories walk. The first part is to see your balance and direction in foreign surroundings and lighting, so let's see you keep it all lined up. Ready?"

The contestants nodded.

"Good. Rangiku, you're up first."

Rangiku nodded, making her choker-collared silver dress shimmer, a black sequined sash draped over her shoulders.

"Come with me," he said, dangling a black blindfold before her.

Rangiku followed Jay to the back of the runway, counting silently as she went.

Jay looked to where Miss Jay stood at the end of the runway, luminous in his white attire.

"Ready, Miss Jay?" Jay called.

"Let her rip!" Miss Jay called back. Overhead the disco ball began to spin, the lights to strobe, and the tented room was awash in stop-action jolting silver and flash.

From the sidelines Orihime eked out a muted '_Uh-oh_.'

Rangiku groaned as Jay stood on tiptoe to tie the blindfold around her head. "You don't have to put that on, Jay; I can't see with all those swirling lights as it is."

He grinned, tying the black sash over her eyes. "That's the point. Keep your balance, and think about your walk."

She nodded.

Jay led her to the back step to the runway, where Rangiku put one silver pump on the platform, and stepped up.

Miss Jay watched as the first contestant approached, her swishy walk a little less forceful, each step the usual stomp, silver dress bending in all the right places as she stopped before him near the end of the runway and set one hand on a well-formed hip, her head angling at him despite the blindfold.

"Hold it," he said, nodding. "You're four inches from the end of the runway, Rangiku. Excellent walk, mostly centered all the way down, leaning just a little to your right. Now turn and go back, and you can try it working your sash."

She nodded and smiled, then turned on her heel, tilting to one side a bit, and stomped back to Jay. She took off the blindfold and made her second pass, both hands on the sash stretching across her shoulders, her fingers trailing down it as she approached Miss Jay.

He nodded as she reached him. "Not bad. Think about working the sash more next time."

Rangiku nodded and returned to Jay.

Next was Orihime, who was half-blind from the strobe light by now, clutching Jay's sleeve as he tied her blindfold.

"Okay, princess, you're up," he said, walking her to the step.

She nodded, clubbing a pump toe on the side of the step as she climbed up to the runway. "Is that the only step?"

"Yes," Jay told her. He turned her straight down the runway when she stood facing the wrong direction. "Right in front of you, Orihime."

"Got it, Jay." Orihime started off with a tentative, halting strut for the first few steps, then smiled and stomped on, wandering from center.

"You're drifting, girl," Miss Jay called to her, shaking his head.

"... eight, nine ... What? Agh!" Orihime took a few more steps and was off the runway and on her knees in a blind pile on the floor by step eleven.

"Are you all right, princess?" Jay called.

"Yes!" Orihime managed to get to her feet, groping for the runway and crawling back onto it in her fitted peach sequin gown. She took a moment to get straightened, hands out to her sides.

"Down here, girl," Miss Jay said.

Orihime followed his voice and resumed her runway walk, with less surety, stopping three feet from the end, where she did her pose, waiting for a signal.

"Close enough," Miss Jay finally said. "Turn around and go back and then show us your walk with the sash."

Orihime nodded, made an awkward turn, and headed back to Jay, each step more dangerously close to the left edge than the one before. She stopped when Jay called '_Whoa!_' She pulled off the blindfold.

"Not so good?" she asked, nodding at him.

Jay nodded back. "Now with the sash."

Orihime nodded, and repeated her walk, this time in the middle of the runway, with more composure, imitating Rangiku's movements with the sash, halting before Miss Jay.

He sighed. "Ho-hum, Orihime. You need to work that sash, or any other accessory you've got. Think about it."

She nodded humbly. "Yes, Miss Jay."

Next was Nemu, who made a straight, unwavering walk down the runway in her red sequined figure-hugging gown, arms to her sides, each step as measured as the other, proving her calculations, her face turned to Miss Jay at the end of the runway as she struck her pose nearly mechanically.

Miss Jay frowned at her. "Can you see through the blindfold, Nemu?"

"I have my eyes closed," she offered, attempting tact.

"Oh. So, you weren't watching where you were walking?"

"No, Miss Jay," Nemu said smoothly. "That would be an unfair advantage."

"Uh ... yeah. Okay, let's see you work the sash."

Nemu nodded, and returned just as precisely to Jay at the end of the runway, only to repeat the exact rendition of Rangiku's walk with the sash.

Miss Jay shook his head at her. "There's got to be more to do with a sash, ladies," he said loud enough for all the contestants to hear. "Okay. Let's see Yoruichi."

Jay tied the blindfold around Yoruichi's head, watching her leap expertly to the platform before he could help her up. He shook his head.

"I suppose you've trained as a gymnast?" he asked as she smoothed the beaded fringe of her teal dress.

She looked in his direction, sending a smile that lost nothing despite the blindfold. "No, Jay."

She turned to the runway, and made a jarringly strong walk down it, perfectly centered, strands of beads swaying rhythmically. She halted before Miss Jay at the end of the runway, one hand on her hip as she settled to one side.

"A-plus for execution, Yoruichi," Miss Jay said. "Nothing more to be said, girl. You got it."

Yoruichi smiled, and turned to finish her stomp back to the end of the runway, where she removed the blindfold and proceeded with her second walk.

Hers was a more fluid albeit similar example of the other contestants' walks, sash across her shoulders, ends in each of her hands.

"Hmm, a little better," Miss Jay said as she paused before him.

Jay signaled one of the crewmen. "Lose the strobe, Mack."

The strobe light blinked out and the lights returned to normal.

Jay motioned to the other contestants to follow him, and they all joined Miss Jay and Yoruichi, who was still on the runway.

Miss Jay waved a hand at the contestants. "What's up with ya all just hangin' onto the sash? Ya gotta be creative here, me pretties. It comes off your shoulders; give it life, because in the fashion world you're going to run into scarves, sashes, stoles, shawls, all of it."

Jay arced an eyebrow. "How many of you counted steps?"

All the contestants raised a hand.

He nodded. "I thought so. All of you need work on using the sash, and with your next elimination it'll be crucial to stand out. As for this challenge," he said, looking to Miss Jay, "what do we think?"

Miss Jay nodded. "We think Nemu and Yoruichi had the best walks. Rangiku had a good, but lopsided walk; Orihime needs to stay on the runway," he said as the Living girl nodded with a short bow. "I'd say Yoruichi was the best."

Jay nodded. "Yoruichi it is."

Yoruichi smiled, mumbling a '_thanks_' to Rangiku as the auburn-haired woman congratulated her.

"Tell us what she's won, Jay," Miss Jay said in his best announcer voice.

Jay looked to Yoruichi. "You get, for winning the blindfold challenge, first pick of the gowns for the elimination photo shoot."

Yoruichi nodded quickly, smiling.

"Which starts in ..." Miss Jay looked to his watch, mimicking shock, "three minutes!"

The lights overhead brightened, and behind them a bustling was heard in the changing area. The Jays looked to each other.

"Awfully noisy back there. I wonder what's going on?" Jay said.

"Hmm," Miss Jay said, looking to Yoruichi. "You ready to see your choice of evening wear, Miss Yoruichi?"

She nodded, smile growing.

"Good. Let's go see whatcha got."

Behind the curtains in the changing area the empty rack was exchanged for a taller rack of four dresses, each in flowing designs of black and white. The contestants smiled, an immediate murmur of excitement ebbing through them.

Yoruichi looked to the Jays as Miss Jay made a sweeping gesture to the rack.

"You've each had your first step at a bona fide photo shoot with Textures," Jay said, his tone businesslike. "Now you need to take that professionalism to the runway. Black and white formalwear is the quintessential must-walk for every model, and the sheer starkness of the palate will showcase your walk and carriage without allowing you to lean on color for support. It's a different kind of shoot, ladies," he added, "so don't let the gown make the impression. You're still in charge of the walk."

"Of course, no evening is complete without accessories," Miss Jay said, pointing to a chrome hat tree from which hung four scarves made of long rows of black and white chiffon. "Each of you is to use a scarf to accent your gown. Work the scarf on the runway, girls; no draping it over your heads like a babushka, and no matronly Hollywood film star turbans from the Fifties. Make it come alive."

"Not literally," Rangiku whispered to Nemu as the latter tilted her head questioningly at Miss Jay's instructions.

Nemu nodded.

Jay pointed. "Yoruichi, choose your gown, winner."

Yoruichi smiled and went to the rack, holding out the first dress. It was of white organza, hanging unevenly from its single shoulder strap from the hanger, the hem in an inch-wide black ruffle swooping at an angle from the right side down to a dramatic extra long length to the left. The back side ended in a floor-sweeping drop. She set it back on the rack.

The next dress was strapless, with a white voile satin body that cut shorter in the front, floor-length in back, border hemmed in white which moved freely when she turned the hanger, considering the design. She hung it back on the rack and reached for the next one.

She smiled at the spaghetti strap black dress with the sweetheart neckline, the skirt falling into mountainous folds of chiffon interspersed with alternating panels of white below the fitted bodice. After a moment of consideration she put it back on the rack and held up the remaining sleeveless black dress. The straight-cut black taffeta crossed collar-bone high, dropping into a swirl of white cut-in like material, giving the appearance of a twirling motion.

She looked to the other dresses, and then pulled the last style close. "I'll take this one."

Miss Jay waved a hand at her. "One of my faves."

Jay nodded. "Yoruichi, as the second part of your win, you get to assign the other dresses to your fellow competitors."

Yoruichi's smiled faltered for a fleeting moment before snapping back into place, and then she grabbed the rest of the gowns with one arm and went to Nemu, Rangiku, and Orihime.

"Here you go," she said to Rangiku, handing her the single-strap white organza. She moved on to Nemu. "For you." She gave her the chiffon dress with the black and white paneled skirt. "And yours," she said, offering Orihime the strapless white satin with the trailing back.

"Very good," Jay said. "Now, head over to hair and make-up, where they're going to give your an evening look, and then into your dresses. Don't forget to work the scarves. I'll see you on the runway!"

* * *

Within half an hour the contestants found themselves looking back at six photographers lining the sides of the runway, two film crews, and the Jays. They stood in a cluster at the side of the runway as the extra crewmen busied around the narrow platform that now had a red carpet running down it, ending where the film crews and a seventh photographer were stationed.

Jay joined the contestants, grinning at their mix of nervousness and anticipation. He nodded, looking over each of them in their gowns, heels, hair pulled high and dangling down their backs, rhinestone necklaces sparkling at their throats, dripping from their earrings.

"Elegant, ladies," he said, "very elegant. Chic, fabulous, and elegant." He nodded. "I know those boned bodices are digging into your ribs and your high heels are making your toes scream, but you look professional." He looked to the scarves they held. "Don't forget the scarves. You have extra photographers for this shoot, because on the runway that's how it is. Flash going off all around you; you might not even be able to see the runway with all the camera's flashing in a real show. Ready?"

The girls nodded.

"Good. I'll be at the end of the runway, but I'm not directing you today."

"No?" Orihime said before she could catch herself.

"No, princess," he said with a grin. "We're looking for the top three contestants to move on to the finals. You've made it this far, so you know most of what you're doing."

"We just get one walk?" Rangiku asked.

Jay nodded. "You get one walk, so make it count. I'll give you the go-ahead, and you take your walk, hit a few poses at the end of the runway, and then turn and go back. That's it." He grinned at their anxious expressions. Except for Nemu, who had managed a tentative smile. "Rangiku, you're first."

Rangiku's blue eyes widened as she fixed the black and white scarf to drape across her shoulder and down her back on either side. "Me?"

Jay nodded. "Oh, and today you get music." He grinned. "Let's see your stuff on the walk."

Jay made his way back to the where the cameraman was set up. The lighting man angled the spotlight on Rangiku when she took her spot at the far end of the runway, pausing, her angled skirt falling from one knee diagonally to mid-calf at the other, hemmed with the black ruffle. Suddenly Right Said Fred's "_I'm Too Sexy_" came pounding loudly over the speakers, and Jay gave Rangiku her cue to begin.

For a few seconds Rangiku just stood there, Fred continuing on with his song, which was on loop, and then she started down the runway at a brisk walk that made her trailing white organza dress twitch behind her with each step, cameras clicking to either side of the platform. One hand languidly pulled at the scarf at her throat until it fell to her side, dragging it behind her as she continued down the carpet, enticing smile on her coral lips, eyes on the main camera until the man behind it reached for the handy tissue box nearby.

She hit her pose at the end of the runway, smiling a little fuller, then turned with a swish of the white skirt, and returned back.

Jay clapped his hands a few times and smiled. "Very good, Rangiku." He looked to the other three contestants, where Orihime was doing a subtle bop-bop in time to the music in her formal dress. "Yoruichi, you're up!"

Yoruichi set the scarf across her back and wound it down either arm so it dangled off her forearms behind her as she hopped onto the far end of the runway. She straightened her diagonally-cut patterned black and white taffeta skirt, found a beat in the music, and started her walk. Cameras flashed, none of which interfered with her step. Nearing the end of the runway she extended her arms to each side, the scarf moving willowy behind her. She hit a few poses, gave the camera an imperious smile, and turned back down the carpet, skirt and scarf flowing behind her.

Jay clapped as she finished. "Well done, Yoruichi. Next, let's see Orihime!"

The Living girl halted mid head-bop and looked to him at her name being called. She grabbed the longer back of her white voile satin skirt with one hand, lifted it enough to avoid being stepped upon as she climbed the step up to the platform, and stood center at the far end of the runway. She settled the scarf at her throat to fall over her shoulders to her back, fingers tugging at the black and white chiffon when it caught on a rhinestone in her necklace.

For a moment she looked down the runway to Jay, and then dropped her hand, caught a beat in Fred's song, and started her trounce down the carpet. Her pace was quick, the front of her dress just short enough to allow a peek of knees, longer and trailing on the carpet behind her, boned bodice full without exposing too much cleavage.

Halfway down the runway she put one hand to the scarf at her throat and snapped it free from only one shoulder, the end snaking across her mid-stride, crossing the carpet, and nearly slapping a cameraman nearby as he snapped photos. Orihime didn't look at him, but her smile turned playful as she hit her mark at the end of the runway. She gave the camera a smile that only hinted at teasing, and snapped a turn and made her sprightly walk back down the carpet, scarf dangling behind from one shoulder.

"Good job," Jay called after her as she stepped off the runway back and emitted a low-key squeal that was drowned out by Fred's song. "Nemu, you're up!"

Nemu stepped onto the far end of the runway in time to the music, and immediately began her powerful walk. The scarf was in both hands behind her, flowing across the back of her black and white panel skirt, graceful folds of chiffon swaying to the beat. She hit her mark at the end of the runway, pulled the scarf close to her face as she looked back at the camera, her expression semi-sultry as she lifted one shoulder in mock-bashfulness at the lens, before heading back down the carpet in perfect time to the music.

"Very good," Jay called, signaling to a crewman. The music cut. Jay motioned over the contestants, who smiled back at him, a few breathless, anticipating. "You all moved to the music like experts, and you worked the scarf much better on the runway than in the challenge earlier." He grinned wider, studying each of them. "I'm proud to have worked with every one of you. Next time I see you it will be at the finals, so good luck at panel!"

* * *

"The thing about it is," Miss Jay said, leaning closer to Uryuu to his right at the judges table later that day, "I don't know whether to be offended or not. Is it black-face to poke fun at me -- and Tyra, too, I guess -- or not? Is it that cosplay stuff or is he being offensive?"

Uryuu looked down the table to the issue Miss Jay was having with Mayuri Kurotsuchi's appearance. He shook his head and said to the fashion trainer, "That's just the way he is. It's nothing personal, Miss Jay."

Miss Jay nodded. "Oh."

Tyra leaned in on the conversation, leaving Nigel to hold his own in conversation with the guest judge. "Are you certain, Mr. Ishida?"

Uryuu nodded. "I'm certain."

"...we could've just taken their measurements and been done with it," Nigel was saying as Kurotsuchi watched him closely. "Modeling is more than just a set of calipers being held up to a woman's body. If it was just that, we'd have a row of mannequins. Modeling is an art form, and in involves life."

"I see," Kurotsuchi said with a nod. "I suppose there's merit in that."

Tyra, size full, tugged at her gold lame sleeveless evening dress trimmed with copper beads as she stood up. "Where's the drama in mannequins?" she mumbled. "No one would tune in to see us pose a bunch of dummies. No ratings, Dr. Kurotsuchi. What are you a doctor of?"

Kurotsuchi grinned, making Nigel nearly recoil. "Many fields. Predominately genetics. And modifications."

Uryuu was about to say something, but they all looked to the front of the room where the four contestants, now dressed in strapless black dresses of various designs, stepped in and stood at the end of the runway carpet.

"Hello, final four!" Tyra called as she positioned herself in front of the table.

"Hi, Tyra!" they called back, a few moving their sore feet in their black pumps.

"Stylish, very stylish," Tyra said, wagging a finger at their black dresses. "So, today you had your first full-fledged runway photo shoot. One pass. Seven photographers. What'd you think?"

The contestants all looked to each other, nodding, except for Nemu, whose pensive attention was on the guest judge.

"Fun?" Tyra prompted.

Three out of four contestants nodded.

"Good." Tyra proceeded to introduce the panel, with Miss Jay sporting only a few lonely points on his tiara, and described the prizes awarded to the winner of the competition.

"Also," she said upon completing her recitation, "we have the renowned Dr. Kurotsuchi." She looked from Kurotsuchi to Nemu, trying to recall the contestant's last name.

"No relation," Kurotsuchi said.

Nemu looked back to Tyra, who was nodding slowly.

The contestants offered the guest judge passable smiles of welcome.

Tyra addressed the contestants. "Today you had the black and white photo shoot, and we had over one hundred frames to choose from, for each of you. Let's take a look at your best shots."

She hurried around the table, giving the guest judge a wide berth as she rounded his corner, and sat between Nigel and Miss Jay. She quirked a smile and looked to the four girls. "First up, Yoruichi."

Said contestant made her stalk down the runway, smiling at each judge in turn.

"You won the blindfolded challenge," Tyra said, lifting an eyebrow, "so you got to choose your own gown first."

Yoruichi nodded. "They were all lovely, Tyra."

Tyra smiled. "Nothing but the best here. Let's see your best shot."

They all looked to the screen as Yoruichi's photo appeared there. She was in mid-step on the runway, the scarf loosely wrapped down her extended arms, the diagonal black and white skirt flowing around her in folds.

"Excellent photo," Tyra said. "You chose well. Thank you, Yoruichi. Next, Orihime!"

Yoruichi passed Orihime on the carpet, both avoiding a hip-collision as Orihime tried not to look at the guest judge, who was studiously watching her walk.

"Good walk, Orihime," Tyra said as the girl stopped before the table. "I understand you walked right off the runway with the blindfold on."

Uryuu bristled at the mention.

"It was a klutzy walk," she said with a giggle.

"But you got right back up there and showed us a real professional at the photo shoot," Tyra said with a commendable nod. "That's model material. Let's see your best shot."

On the screen blinked Orihime in the graduated length white voile satin dress, the scarf trailing behind her from one shoulder and wrist, smiling, her make-up done to add acceptable years to her appearance, smiling at the camera.

"Stunning," Uryuu said louder than he'd meant to. "It's perfect."

Orihime blushed and looked from him to Tyra.

Tyra pursed her lips, raising an eyebrow. "You have a fan, Miss Orihime."

Uryuu reddened, his glasses slightly fogging. "It was an honest comment."

"That's part of the problem," Miss Jay said lowly to him.

"Very good, Orihime," Tyra said. "Thank you. Next, Nemu!"

Nemu came down the runway with her power walk as Orihime returned to line. She stomped a stop, eyes on Tyra.

"That's some strut there, Nemu. Uh-huh!" Tyra said with a snap of her fingers. "Let's see your best shot."

On the screen flicked Nemu's end of the runway photo, the black and white pleated shirt in motion around her, head tilted to one side as her hands held the scarf at her neck shrug-style, her expression a cross between smile and a flirty come-hither look.

"Interesting use of the scarf," Nigel said.

Miss Jay shrugged.

"It's a good photo, Nemu," Tyra said, nodding. "Thank you. Rangiku, come on down!"

Rangiku took her strong stroll down the carpet to stand before the judges table, smiling at them.

"Good stuff there, Rangiku," Tyra said, smiling back at the contestant. "Let's see your best shot."

Rangiku's photo blinked onto the screen. In it she was midway down the runway, the scarf traipsing behind her in one hand, her face lifted to the camera, a daring smile on her face.

"Good shot," Tyra said, nodding, looking to the guest judge. "Have you any comment on any of these, Dr. Kurotsuchi?"

He looked to her, sending a chill up her spine that made her partially hide behind Nigel.

"Yes," Kurotsuchi said.

Tyra waited for a comment. None came.

She looked back to Rangiku, who was holding her fixed smile. "You worked the scarf well, even in a still shot it shows. Nicely done."

"Thanks, Tyra."

Tyra nodded, and then dismissed the contestants to allow the judges' deliberation. She shuffled the photos in front of her, then yelped as a black hand closed over them.

Followed by a rare moment of interference for Kurotsuchi as Nigel's hand clutched the guest judge's wrist.

"Tyra usually keeps the photos during discussion," the photographer told him.

"Oh?" Kurotsuchi looked from him to Tyra.

She pushed the photos to the last judge. "Let's mix it up this time, shall we, Nigel?"

Nigel released Kurotsuchi's wrist, eyeing the man warily.

Down the table Uryuu was shaking his head. Miss Jay crossed himself.

Kurotsuchi looked to the photo of Yoruichi. "She's a well-proportioned woman, even skin tone, expressive eyes, athletic movements, but she looks like an octopus here."

Nigel, Tyra, Miss Jay, and Uryuu looked at each other.

"That's what I was going to say," Miss Jay jumped in.

"You were going to say all that?" Nigel queried dubiously.

"No, just the part about the octopus." Miss Jay leaned across Tyra to see the photo better. "It's all tentacle-like, and with the slanting black on white of the skirt it looks like she's descending or spinning. Like that witch-chic in that mermaid movie with Queen Latifa's voice."

"Ursula?" Tyra said, voice raising an octave. "Queen Latifa doesn't do her voice,_ sista_. And Yoruichi doesn't look anything like that villainess."

Miss Jay rolled his eyes and straightened. "Oh, yes'm she does, Miss Tyra. You set that photo in motion and you got Ursula all over the place."

Nigel shook his head. "Yoruichi has taken some of our strongest photos this competition, but this one does seem a bit ... I wish she'd done something different with the scarf."

Kurotsuchi handed the photo to Nigel. "Pass that to the hermaphrodite down there."

Nigel passed the photo, which got hand-to-hand to Miss Jay.

"Now you can be offended," Uryuu told Miss Jay as the judge beside him grumbled, "but I wouldn't say anything about it to him, if I were you."

"Hmph." Miss Jay cocked his head to one side, making an exaggerated pout at Yoruichi's photo.

Kurotsuchi looked at Orihime's photo, making Uryuu cringe and drum his fingers nervously on the table. "Miss Inoue is an excellent specimen, young enough to change any imperfections, proportions to height are well done, very agreeable face." He smiled, verging on leering.

Nigel pulled the photo from Kurotsuchi's black hand and passed it down the table to Uryuu, who clutched it possessively.

"Oh, weren't you finished?" Nigel asked when the guest judge looked sharply to him.

"Hmm. Yes, I suppose so."

Tyra looked to the photo Uryuu held. "This is one of Orihime's best, I think. She's working the scarf, got a killer smile, and with the make-up she looks just a bit, well, not older, but sophisticated. A good look for her, and Jay Manuel said her walk was excellent."

"She's in," Nigel said.

Uryuu nodded. "She's the best."

Kurotsuchi held up Nemu's photo, giving it a dispassionate study. "Nemu is well-proportioned, intelligent, follows orders." He handed the photo to Tyra.

Nigel nodded. "You're right on those points. She's been able to take direction from day one."

"She'd better."

"And she takes amazing photos," Nigel said, looking on as Tyra nodded at the photo in her hands.

"It's those shark-like eyes," Miss Jay said, shaking his head. "_The Corpse Bride_. Every week, it's like pulling teeth to get any depth of expression from her."

"Don't tell him _that_," Uryuu told him in a low tone.

"Her eyes?" Kurotsuchi said, interest piqued.

"I've seen it, too," Tyra said, nodding.

"You said she takes direction well," Kurotsuchi said to Nigel.

"She does. Follows through on every direction." Nigel gestured to the photo of Nemu in her black and white chiffon. "It's the whole animal handler thing." Looks of confusion all around, so he continued. "An animal trainer can't teach _Lassie_ to squirm in pain like she was attacked by a horde of bees," Nigel said as Uryuu slapped a hand over his face in horror, "but the animal handler can give the collie commands to roll around on its back and yipe. There's no emotion connected with the collie's actions, but the visual affects are the same."

Kurotsuchi looked to the photo of Nemu. "Simple commands would improve her emotional output?"

Uryuu leaned over Tyra to see Nigel and Kurotsuchi better. "I suggest something like a charm course."

"A charm course?" the guest judge repeated.

"Yes. Or," Uryuu said with a grin, "a two day pass to an amusement park where she could study all sorts of expressions."

"Mr. Ishida, you know the prizes for this competition," Tyra said kindly. "There are no runner-up awards."

"Oh, yes, of course." He sat back, pushing his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose.

"He might be right," Kurotsuchi said, eyes on the last photo. His grin returned as his gaze fell over Rangiku's body, resting on the dress of white organza where it sloped across her chest, the hem falling into a slanted edge trimmed with the black ruffle at her legs. "Miss Matsumoto is also well-balanced, proper measurements, pleasant face. The mole is off-center."

"The mole isn't a problem," Nigel said, plucking the photo from Kurotsuchi's hands.

"I didn't say it was a problem."

Tyra and Miss Jay looked to each other, then to Uryuu, whose attention was back on the photo in his hands.

"So, gentlemen," Tyra said smoothly, feeling Kurotsuchi's eyes on her, "have we decided on our winner?"

* * *

Minutes later the remaining four contestants were lined up at the end of the carpet, looking back at the judges seated at the table, and at Tyra standing before them with the photos.

"It's getting down to the final few," Tyra said seriously. "I have only three photos in my hands, but four beautiful, talented girls in front of me. One of you will be going home, and three of you will be advancing." She turned over the first photo. "Orihime!"

After a gasp, Orihime skipped down the carpet, smiling as she received her photo from Tyra. "Thank you!"

"You took excellent photos this shoot," Tyra said softly, "you had the smile, the walk, the sophistication I haven't seen before, but you didn't lose your fun. Very Drew Barrymore. You've got what it takes to win The Next Top Model. Now you've got to top your competition."

Orihime nodded and went back to get in line.

Tyra looked over the three other contestants for a long moment before flipping over the next photo. "Rangiku!"

Rangiku did a pageant-winning hop and went down the carpet to take her photo.

"You brung it, girl," Tyra said with a short laugh. "You worked the scarf, you brought the strut and smile. We'll be seeing you in the top three."

"Thanks, Tyra." Rangiku turned and took her place beside Orihime, giving the Living girl a quick hug.

Tyra looked to the last two contestants. "Nemu, Yoruichi, please come down here."

The two contestants approached Tyra.

"You've had some outstanding photos over the course of this competition," Tyra said to Yoruichi. "The camera loves you, and the judges do, too. But this week, the scarf just didn't work for you. That surprised us." She looked to Nemu. "Photographers all say it: Nemu is the most receptive contestant to work with. She takes direction, she listens. But she doesn't always deliver." Tyra looked from Yoruichi to Nemu. "You both got this far, and that means you've got what it takes, but is it enough?"

Yoruichi and Nemu both looked to the guest judge, who was looking back at them.

Tyra turned over the last photo. "Yoruichi, you're still in the running for The Next Top Model."

Nemu's eyes dropped, and then her gaze lifted to see Kurotsuchi. She looked to Tyra. "Thank you for the opportunity to compete."

Yoruichi pulled Nemu close and hugged her. "Nice job, Nemu."

"Thank you."

Nemu turned and walked down the carpet, returning the waves Orihime and Rangiku gave her as she went, smiling a bit.

And then there were three.

* * *

**Next Elimination: Classics Photo Shoot**

**Who's The Next Top Model? Poll is Up!**


	24. Meanwhile XII

Uryuu Ishida found himself in a spot few, if any, males had ever been, and he did not want to be there. Not entirely.

He stared back at the shinigami of eliminations past.

The special meeting of the Shinigami Women's Association was being held in the roomier cafeteria of Eleventh Division, close enough to Ninth Division to hear the occasional _"Fierce!_" boom out from Hisagi's quarters as the upper echelon of Soul Society watched The Next Top Model marathon, thanks to Nemu's nimble fingers and the new satellite hook-up on the roof.

"Listen up!" Yachiru demanded, standing atop one of the tables near Uryuu. "We got a guest today!"

Uryuu pushed the glasses farther up his nose, looking out over the shinigami women sitting at the tables before him. "Thank you for allowing me --"

"He needs more sketches and measurements, so write them down and pass them up," Yachiru called over him.

Nanao, Momo, and Retsu looked around at the other women.

"Shouldn't he do actual measuring?" Retsu asked.

"I generally work from written measurements, and I have a very good eye for visual calculations," Uryuu told them, seeing the other women roll their eyes at him, "but lately I've had a lot of ..." he began to redden, deciding that using the word _stimulation_ wasn't the best choice for the crowd before him, "extraneous activities that have clouded my ability to, ahem, do that, so I'd like to take a few notes and design ideas from each of you."

"We're not all here," Isane said, slightly miffed that all the other women in the room were former contestants, and that she alone was the non-contender. "_They're_ not all here."

"I already have measurements from Hiyori and Tatsuki," Uryuu said, "and Kuukaku has promised to get hers to me. And, I think I can work off memory for Yumichika," he added reluctantly.

"Oh, I'll get his for you," Yachiru promised.

Rukia was pouting, sitting beside Isane and Nemu at the nearest table. "These better be tasteful."

Before Uryuu could assure her, Yachiru piped up again. "They will be. Kenny said so."

"Hello, ladies," Shunsui's drawl came from the cafeteria's open doorway, startling them all.

The women groaned, except for Nanao, who shook a finger at him.

"Women only, Captain," his vice-captain told him. "You can't be here."

"Oh, yes, I'm not coming in," he said, his words reflecting the amount of sake' he'd already put down. "We're halfway through the episodes, and we want the Quincy."

Uryuu noticeably swallowed, clutching his notepad tighter. "I'm only here to take --"

"You have to wait until we're done with him," Yachiru chirped, hopping over to him and pushing on his knees.

_"Fierce!" _came a raucous roar from Ninth Division, followed by the slam of sake' bottles.

Shunsui looked behind him, then back to the women. "Dang, I missed one." He motioned to Uryuu. "When you're done with him, send him over."

"Okay, you go now," Yachiru said, pushing harder on the captain's knees until he backed out of the doorway. She looked to Uryuu. "Okay, hurry up and get Nemu's measurements. We have cookies to bake. Then we'll talk about what we want."

"It won't take long," Uryuu said, deciding to wait until after the pink-haired tot had her fill of cookies to discuss creative differences.

"Get up there, Nemu," Yachiru said, her attention wandering to the back of the cafeteria.

Nemu stood up and met Uryuu at the front of the cafeteria as the other women began sketching their ideas on pads of paper at the tables.

She looked all right to him, Uryuu decided, still in one piece, moving as gracefully as she had at the competition, almost -- yes -- smiling as she stopped before him, her dark eyes as lovely as ever.

"I'm sorry you're out, Nemu," he began, but she held up a pamphlet for him to see. He read the cover aloud: "Seireitei Finishing School for Young Ladies."

She nodded, and then leaned closer toward him until he took a step back.

"If that doesn't work," she said, smiling more fully, "I'm going to Disney World."

* * *

**_Next Elimination: Classics Photo Shoot_**

**_Who's The Next Top Model? Poll is up!_**


	25. Classics Photo Shoot

The sound of hammering echoed across Seireitei just as dawn broke that morning, sending a certain Quincy's hangover headache to a new level.

At the site of the noise was Jay Manuel, in jeans and a sesame colored cotton shirt, standing with Ikkaku and Hisagi as he oversaw the construction of the three outdoor sets. His assistant ran up to him as he looked over the crews already sweltering in the day's early heat.

"The set dresser needs your decisions," the assistant said, bowing quickly to the two shinigami.

"We're still waiting on Kensei," Jay said.

Hisagi and Ikkaku looked to each other.

"He's not coming," Hisagi said.

"What?" Jay put his hands on his hips. "No one told me that. We have to have a third! We'll be set to shoot in a few hours." He looked to Rukongai in the distance. "I can't believe this place hasn't got a single talent agency. Why no Kensei?"

Hisagi cleared his throat. "Cracked ribs."

"We need a third." Jay looked around, then recalled something. "A guy gave me his phone number before we left Tokyo ... but he wanted to judge, not model. Definitely a_ type_." He sighed, mentally wincing at the thought of Grimmjow. "Do you two know anyone who could fill in?"

Hisagi shrugged, looking to Ikkaku. "What about Ichigo or Renji?"

Jay shook his head. "They judged; Tyra would never allow it."

"Ahem," the assistant said, looking hintingly to Jay.

Jay nodded, flipping through the pages on his clipboard. "Hisagi, let's see your legs."

Hisagi took a step back, hand going to his side, only to recall he was unarmed. "My legs? Why?"

Ikkaku snickered, pointing at him.

Jay pointed at Ikkaku. "Now that, that was perfect, Ikkaku."

Ikkaku glared at Jay. "Perfect for what?"

Jay's attention was back on Hisagi. "Up with the skirts. Let's see your legs."

"It's not a skirt!" Hisagi snapped. "They're hakama pants."

Jay bobbed his head to each side. "I didn't realize you both were in the military here."

Ikkaku and Hisagi crossed their arms over their chests.

"What of it?" Ikkaku asked.

Jay grinned. "I didn't know we were so close to the military base." He pointed a pen at Hisagi's pants. "Let's see your legs."

"Hell, no," Hisagi maintained.

Jay shrugged and crossed something off on the clipboard. "That's a _no_ to Robin Hood." He nodded to Ikkaku. "You're already barefoot, that's a plus."

Ikkaku raised an eyebrow suspiciously at Hisagi.

Hisagi frowned. "What about his legs?"

"He'll be fine," Jay mumbled, looking at his clipboard as his assistant grew anxious. "Okay, do you two know anyone else who can stand in for Kensei?"

After a moment, Ikkaku nodded. "I'll get you someone."

Jay grinned wider. "That'll be great, Ikkaku. How're his legs?"

Ikkaku chuckled. "Usable."

Jay nodded and looked to his assistant. "_Pocahontas_ is out." He marked on the clipboard and handed it to the slighter man. "This is what I want." He turned back to Ikkaku and Hisagi. "Okay, I need you back in two hours, with the third model."

Ikkaku and Hisagi moved off toward Seireitei, Hisagi already questioning the bald man.

"Make sure he's photogenic, too!" Jay called after them, only to see a tall shapely figure scantily draped in colorful scarves approaching him from another direction. "Aye, not Kuukaku again," he mumbled.

She hastened her pace as Jay turned away. "Hey! Jay-man! What's this about the drain being in the wrong end of the pool?"

Jay tried to outdistance her to the opposite side of the construction area.

"Jay!"

* * *

"Tyra mail!" Orihime called, waving the purple and gold envelope later at the Shiba house, hopping in place. She was immediately joined in the kitchen by Yoruichi and Rangiku, already dressed in tank tops and shorts in the growing heat. They both leaned over her shoulder to see the note.

"'One shot left to decide the final two,'" she read. "'One chance left to impress the judges. Be ready at ten, and make it count, because one of you will be eliminated,'" she said slowly. "'Love, Tyra.'"

They all three looked to each other.

Rangiku glanced at the brass clock on the wall. "Half an hour."

Yoruichi lifted an eyebrow. "Last chance."

Orihime was rereading the note, frowning uneasily. "No challenge first? Straight to elimination?"

The two other women nodded at her.

Yoruichi smiled and crossed her arms. "This is it. Almost the end."

Orihime fingered the note's gilt edges, rereading the loopy penmanship. "What do you suppose the photo shoot will be? There's no clue this time."

Rangiku leaned against the wall, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. "It's so hot out today I hope it involves water."

Yoruichi and Orihime nodded in agreement.

* * *

Half an hour later the limousine pulled up before the busy site of the constructed sets. The three contestants climbed out of the car, looking eagerly to see what little they could of the partial mock-ups of what appeared to be several ancient civilizations and the inside of a historical townhouse. Yoruichi, Rangiku, and Orihime looked to each other as they met Jay Manuel -- now dressed in dark jeans and a gray cotton shirt open over a white tank top -- near the row of curtained off wardrobe and make-up stations.

"Hallo, ladies!" he called, grinning at the three of them.

"Hello, Jay!" they chorused.

"Hmm, not many left," he said, taking a deep breath. "Feeling the stress, girls?"

The contestants nodded.

"Well, good, keep it and use it to drive you through the next few photo shoots. The winner of this competition will have to get used to the stress of constant travel, long hours, strange locations, strange people, foods, languages, all of it," he said. "You never know where the next shoot will be, and you have to be ready for anything."

The contestants nodded again.

"Good." Jay rubbed his hands together as his assistant joined him. "Throughout this competition you've learned about lighting, movement in natural lighting and how to find it, speaking before the camera, and generally how to sell a product. One final challenge. Today we're going to see which of you -- which two of you -- can persuade to the camera. We want to see you convince the camera of an emotion, without speaking. Use your eyes, your face, your lips." He waved a finger at them. "That doesn't always mean sexy or pouty. And, to help us with that," he said, taking the clipboard the assistant handed him, "is Acclaim Books Classics Illustrated new romantic line of graphic novels."

Orihime made a slight whimpering noise. "How graphic?"

Jay shook his head. "Not adult graphic, princess; graphic as in illustrated. Like manga."

"Oh," Rangiku said.

"This should be easy," Yoruichi said with a nod.

Jay held up a thin book displaying _The Three Musketeers_ on the cover. "Acclaim Books is adding the romance stories of _Pocahontas, Caesar and Cleopatra_, _Gone with the Wind, Robin Hood,_ and a version of _The King and I_ to their list, and you're going to be posing for the cover art today."

The contestants squealed and giggled.

Jay smiled. "Now since these are romance lines, you'll be posing opposite a male model, so it'll be important to keep in mind you are part of a couple."

Orihime's smile dropped a notch, Rangiku's eyes grew, and Yoruichi looked around curiously to spot said models.

"They're not here yet, Yoruichi," Jay told them. "Each of these stories centers around a romantic story, and each contain a strong scene where the heroine tries to convince her leading man of something. In _Gone with the Wind_ we have Scarlett begging Rhett not to leave her at the end of the book; in _The King and I_ we have Anna persuading King Mongkut to give her residence outside the palace, and Cleopatra convincing Julius Caesar not to return to his wife in Rome. Your job is to capture that moment of pleading or convincing well enough in a photo that artwork can be created for the books."

"Do we have to learn lines?" Rangiku asked.

"No lines, but you can speak, if you like. These are stills only, girls, not video, so any persuasion should come from your expression and body language, not your choice of words." Jay grinned at them. "Ready for your assignments?"

The contestants nodded.

Jay looked to his clipboard, and then to Yoruichi. "You get to show us the temptress Cleopatra, Yoruichi. Orihime, you're the belle of the ball as Scarlett, and Rangiku, you're our independent and lovely lady of letters, Anna Leonowens. Now, each of you will get a summary of the story," he added, holding up three booklets with boring black covers, "and head on over to wardrobe and make-up where our geniuses will recreate your historical looks."

* * *

Rangiku spent the next thirty minutes in wardrobe and make-up being laced rib-tight into her crinoline style dress of mild yellow silk and lace, white taffeta petticoats making the skirt stand out in a wide hoop around her, long sleeves snug to the wide modest collar stretching across her chest, which actually did little to lessen the emphasis, a pearl and coral choker at her throat, a gold watch fob dangling from her waist. Her strawberry-blonde hair fell along her neck in curls, accented with gold and blue cloisonne combs at both temples, lips rouged and eyes made-up thick with mascara.

She fanned herself with the small silk fan, feeling the day's increasing heat as the hair stylist gave her hair a final pat. She carefully touched a comb. "This thing weighs a ton," she said, moving carefully on the small satin shoes that weren't visible beneath her skirts. From nearby Orihime and Yoruichi both watched, the first in similar garb, complete with a fan.

"No wonder they were always fainting back then," Orihime said, her slender form packed into an equally tight puffy-sleeved bustle style dress of raspberry black satin and black embroidery, fanning herself industriously with the black starched lace fan.

Nearby Yoruichi waited in a considerably lighter costume, consisting mostly of a white linen tunic with long skirt slit thigh high on each side and wide ornamental collar of gold with blue and red enamel in lotus design across her chest. Her eyes were lined with sweeping black liner. "They look heavy, and warm," she noted. "Can you even breathe?"

Both Orihime and Rangiku shook their heads.

Orihime frowned, considering Yoruichi's adornments. "I want an armband, too."

Yoruichi looked to the gold cuffs that encircled her arms depicting viper designs, and then to her bracelets and anklet. "Now _this_ I could get used to."

Jay joined them as Rangiku gave herself a final glimpse in the make-up station mirror and attempted taking a deep breath.

"Fabulous, ladies, just fabulous," he said, smiling and nodding. "Now remember that we only need you to look persuasive, to convey it in your eyes, your face, without words. That's what modeling relies on; expression, not words."

They all nodded, Yoruichi's gold disc earrings bobbing.

"Rangiku, you're up first," Jay said.

Rangiku looked at the set when they reached it, a backdrop constructed to resemble the interior of a nineteenth century Siam palace drawing room, long swags of transparent pink and blue silk draped from the ceiling against the walls, pierced and cut copper panels partitioning either side of the set, a painted black and white marble floor underfoot.

"This is the palace room set," Jay told her, "where you're going to hold the King to his promise for a private house for you and your son."

Rangiku held up her booklet. "Do I get a son, too?"

"No, not for the cover. Just you and the King." Jay gestured behind her. "Here's your King now."

Rangiku turned to see Ikkaku, and would have laughed if she could have breathed. She managed a giggle.

Ikkaku stood scowling in his short pants and cropped jacket, both of thick red velvet decorated with gold flecks, trimmed in yellow chenille. On each ankle was a gold cuff, his feet bare. "You're wearing enough material to make two kimonos, Matsumoto," he said with a short laugh.

She rolled her eyes and fanned herself faster. "Why am I so overly dressed and he's so ... so _Ikkaku_?" she asked Jay.

The fashion shoot director shrugged. "He's perfect for the part."

She committed a shallow sigh, her posture bolstered by the whale bone corset. "By the book?"

Jay nodded. "By the book. Let's get you started."

The cameraman and photographer took their spots outside the set as Jay positioned the models.

A few moments later Rangiku and Ikkaku stood looking back at Jay, both with their hands on their hips, semi-sour looks on their faces.

"Stand a little closer to him, Rangiku," Jay said, "and put your arms down."

She did this, looking to Ikkaku.

"Anytime, Rangiku," Jay said as the photographer nodded to him. "Remember, persuasion."

Rangiku looked to Ikkaku. "You promised me a house outside of the palace. Where is it?"

Ikkaku frowned. "I don't know."

"No," Jay said. "Rangiku, you don't have to say it; show it. Show us imploring, in your face."

She frowned at him for a moment, and then turned back to Ikkaku. Her face softened, and she stepped closer. Ikkaku looked wary, and stepped back.

"No, you're king, Ikkaku. Don't run away from her," Jay said.

"I'm not running," he said.

Rangiku smiled. "You promised."

Ikkaku haughtily looked away from her.

Rangiku batted her eyes, which Ikkaku ignored.

"You have to look at her," Jay directed.

Ikkaku looked back to Rangiku, who began fingering the yellow collar of her dress, a seductive smile crossing her face.

"What good is a King who won't keep his promises?" she murmured, eyes holding his, the smile never leaving her lips as the photographer clicked photos.

Ikkaku's stony expression began to slip, eyes following her finger.

Her hand dropped to the small white decorative buttons on her dress, fingertips fumbling with them, then she looked to Jay in frustration. "How am I supposed to persuade him if I can't undo these silly buttons?"

"If you can't ...? No, not _that_ way, Rangiku," Jay said quickly as the crewmen chuckled behind him.

"Can I touch him?" she asked Jay.

"No," Ikkaku answered.

"The King and Anna didn't have _that_ kind of relationship," Jay said, grinning as Rangiku moved in on Ikkaku.

She sighed, looking back at Ikkaku with intent, whose eyes were still on the non-functioning buttons beneath her fingers. She dropped her hand and his eyes rose to hers as she leaned closer to him. "A house," she said softly, lips barely moving. "A small house, just outside the palace, a brick house, like you promised me ..."

"Much better, Rangiku," Jay said as the photographer finished off the set. "That's it for your frames."

Rangiku backed away and sighed, trying to catch her breath in the confines of the corset as Ikkaku hung there for a second before leaning away, scowl snapping back into place.

"Am I done?" she asked Jay.

"You're done," he said, grinning as Ikkaku grumbled something and walked off the set.

She sighed, both hands reaching to the back of her dress, straining the yellow silk across her chest. "Somebody cut me outta this thing."

* * *

Ten minutes later it was Orihime in her raspberry black bustle dress, its wasp waist cutting off her oxygen, her long flowing skirt wrapping around her bustled form as she positioned herself before the mid-nineteenth century townhouse interior near the open Federal style door, out which a fog was rolling along. The backdrop was painted in cream wainscoting, the burgundy and gold Oriental carpets underfoot. She was still trying to regulate her breathing, her cheeks pink from the heat, when Jay motioned to her.

"Looks good, Orihime," he said. "Very believable as Scarlett toward the end of the film. Here comes your Rhett Butler."

Hisagi walked onto the set, scars and tattoo covered with make-up, looking dapper in his Restoration Era charcoal colored coat and trousers, string tie at his neck, black felt hat on his head, and fake mustache bridging his upper lip. He grinned back at Jay, and then looked to Orihime, who was blushing fuller now.

"Handsome guy, Hisagi," Jay said, smiling. "Now, stand beside Orihime, as if you're getting ready to leave out the door, which you are."

Hisagi took his place between Orihime and the door. "Hi," he said to her.

"Hi."

"You read up on the story, right, Orihime?" Jay asked as he found his spot between the cameraman and photographer.

"Yes, Jay!"

"Good. Now you're to persuade him not to leave you, you want to work out your marriage. Got it?"

She blushed a little more. "Yes."

"Okay. Whenever you're ready."

Orihime looked to Hisagi, timidity hinting her voice. "Please don't go."

Jay shook his head. "You're not selling it, princess."

Orihime looked up at Hisagi, eyes growing larger, lower lip trembling a little. "Please don't go. We can work it out."

Hisagi cleared his throat, looking uncomfortably at her as the photographer snapped photos.

"Don't rely on your words, Orihime," Jay told her. "He's about to walk out of your life forever."

Orihime nodded, and then looked back to Hisagi with desperation. "Don't leave me! I was wrong!" She clutched the lapels of his jacket tightly in both hands, pinning him to the doorframe as fog rolled by outside the door. "Please don't leave, Hisagi-san!"

"I won't," he said, returning her rapt attention.

"No, Hisagi, Orihime," Jay called. "You don't give in, Hisagi, and, Orihime, you're supposed to use your facial expression to make him stay, not manhandle him."

Hisagi looked from Orihime's hands still embedded in his jacket to Jay. "But I think Rhett would stay."

Jay shook his head. "Unhand him, princess, and try it again."

Orihime unclenched her hands and Hisagi straightened his jacket.

"Go ahead, Orihime," Jay said.

Orihime smoothed her dark skirts and looked back at Hisagi. "I like the mustache."

"Oh, thanks," he nodded with a slight grin, then cautious as she took a step toward him again.

"Please, don't go," she said with a sniff, eyes moistening. "Please stay."

Hisagi nodded, and was still nodding when Jay called to them that they'd finished their frames three clicks later.

"Relying a little too much on dialogue and not on body language and expression," Jay said. "But good set."

"Thanks," Orihime said, hiccupping from her tight bodice. "...Excuse me."

* * *

Ikkaku stood outside the curtained off changing room, listening to the grumbling that came from over the side.

"... on such a short notice, and my first thought was of you," he called over the curtain, now relieved to be in his shinigami robes again. "Besides, it'll help you redeem yourself as a man."

Yumichika ripped back the side of the curtain and glared back at Ikkaku. "I don't need to redeem myself as a man."

Ikkaku grinned, chuckling as he surveyed his comrade's attire, from shin-covering greaves to short tunic peeking out from beneath the leather pleats, to form-fitted anatomically-detailed breastplate, a broadsword in the scabbard at his side. Under Yumichika's arm was an iron helmet, a scowl on his face. "Your armor has nipples."

Yumichika growled something and started off to find Jay. "I hope it's Orihime."

They found Jay at the last set, which had walls of slate gray, draped with white sections of linen from the pillars carved with hieroglyphics, and decorated with Egyptian furniture and motifs, wall torches lit despite the blazingly hot and bright afternoon. To one side was a painted mural with fake balcony, beyond it a small fuzzy-looking pyramid. Yoruichi was already there, looking only slightly wilted in her long white skirt and wide jewel-toned collar, dark hair long and straight, hanging in gold beads at the ends, gold diadem and earrings glinting. She looked at him with surprise, and then laughed.

Jay grinned. "Good to see you again, Yumichika. Nicely arrayed."

"Hi, Jay," Yumichika said. He looked over Yoruichi's costume. "Cleopatra?"

"Uh-huh. Caesar. That works," she said with a nod.

Jay held up his hands as the crewmen behind him adjusted the lights. "This should be old hat to you, Yumichika. You've worked before the camera quite a bit." His attention went to Yoruichi. "You've seen the other shoots, so you know what we're looking for. You want him to stay; he wants to leave. He's _going_ to leave. Use your face, your eyes to convey to the camera that you want him to stay."

Yoruichi nodded and stepped to the balcony painted on the mural. Yumichika took his place beside her, grinning a little as she returned him a sly glance.

"Make him want to stay, Yoruichi," Jay directed as the cameraman nodded to him and the photographer got into position. "This isn't video, so there's no sound. Use your face, your body -- but don't handle him."

Yoruichi looked to Jay. "Not at all?"

"No," Yumichika answered.

"Go when you're ready, Yoruichi," Jay told her.

Yoruichi stepped closer to Yumichika, tossing her black, gold-beaded hair over her shoulder, eyes half closed as she looked up at him. "How can you go back to her and deny me you?"

Yumichika clutched his helmet tighter to his side. "We don't have to speak lines."

"I know that, but maybe it would help." She smiled. "Is it?"

"...No."

"I don't see any entreaty in your expression," Jay called. "Show him with your eyes you don't want him to leave."

Yoruichi sidled closer to Yumichika. "I _am_ Egypt. No one leaves Egypt until I allow them to."

Cameras rolled, snapped.

"Is that a threat?"

"No. I'm trying to get you to stay," she said, eyes lingering on his lips as he attempted a scowl.

"I'm leaving."

Gold eyes flashed brighter. "I'm carrying your child, Yumichika. You can't leave now."

He looked sheepishly to Jay and then back to Yoruichi as her hand slowly slid up his breastplate. "Miss Yoruichi..."

Jay cleared his throat, grinning. "Can you even feel that through the armor, Yumichika?"

"... No."

Yoruichi's sly smile turned more playful, leaning against him. "Don't you want to stay here with me?"

Yumichika remained silent, expression fixed and guarded until the photographer had finished his roll of film.

"That's it," Jay told them, chuckling at Yumichika's resistance. "You almost changed history there, Yoruichi."

She tossed him a smile, and then one to Yumichika as she backed away. "Maybe there wouldn't have had to be an Antony."

Jay took a deep breath, shrugging at the photographer who was grinning. "Well, Yumichika didn't give in." He waved over the other two contestants, who were now back in their shorts and tank tops. "Good photo shoots today, ladies. Tonight you've got the final panel before the finale. I just want to say good luck to all of you, and goodbye to one of you," he added, looking to each of them. "Whichever one that is."

"Thanks, Jay," the women said in unison.

He held out his arms. "A hug?"

They nodded, and gave him a big hug.

* * *

Miss Jay held still as the props girl used a pair of toenail clippers to remove off the fourth point of his tiara, leaving only three.

"How ignoble," he said with a sigh, looking to Uryuu beside him at the judges table that evening. "Toenail clippers."

"Tsk, tsk," the props girl clucked, filing down the tiara nub and giving it a quick polish "That's what happens when you wear it out on the town and I can't get to it."

"It matches my silver heels so well." Miss Jay smoothed his black sequined tank top, giving Uryuu a closer look as the props girl left. "You don't look as green as you did at noon, brother. Feeling better, are we?"

Uryuu started to nod, but thought better of it. "Yes, thank you."

"This weather is unbelievable," Tyra said, fanning herself with a white feathery fan. "Taking the curl right outta my hair." She sighed heavily, and then looked down the table to where Toshirou Hitsugaya sat on the opposite side of Nigel. She perked up a smile for him. "Are you in the junior league of the military out here? ROTC or something like that?"

Hitsugaya gave her a sour look. "No. I'm a captain."

"O-o-oh," Tyra said with an exaggerated wink to Miss Jay. "A _captain_. How nice."

"He is," Uryuu said with a nod.

"Okay," Tyra agreed, nodding with another wink.

"I'm not sure you can appreciate what we do here," Nigel said to the guest judge. "While the competition is about beauty, it's also gauges poise, confidence, runway walk -- which our own Miss Jay coaches -- and commercial marketability. I know that sounds like a lot, but we --"

"I can understand it," Hitsugaya said curtly, teal eyes on the doorway as the contestants arrived. "Only _three_ left?"

"Oh, that's my cue," Tyra said, hopping to her feet, straightening her deep purple sundress and scurrying before the table. She smiled widely at the contestants dressed in coordinating white sundresses. "Hiya, girls!"

"Hi, Tyra!"

"Wow, only three." Tyra shook her head. "Not many left. Just the best. Soon to be two." She took a few moments to do her usual recitation of glamorous prizes and moneys to be won, and then gestured behind her to the table and introduced the judges. "And today, as our special guest judge," she said, drawing out the last few words, raising an eyebrow gratuitously, "is _Captain_ Hitsugaya."

Hitsugaya raised a hand in greeting, unsure.

Rangiku smiled at him, waving a little.

Nigel waved back at her.

"Today you had one of the hardest photo shoots to date," Tyra said to the remaining three contestants. "Invoking an emotion without speaking at all. At _all_. Not easy, is it?"

The contestants all shook their heads.

"No. It's all in the eyes, the mouth, the body language," she said, striking a few self-serving poses and facial expressions to demonstrate her point. "It's a skill hard to learn, but valuable to have as a model. Let's see your best shots."

Tyra hurried around the table, nearly ruffling the guest judge's hair with her elbow as she went. She sat down and looked up. "Come on down, Rangiku!"

Said woman did a powerful walk down the carpet, stopping before the table, casting a stunning smile at them.

"Girl got rhythm," Miss Jay said.

Rangiku gave him his own smile.

"Your photo shoot today had you portraying Anna in _The King and I_, and you had to convince the King to make good on his promise," Tyra said with a nod. "Let's see if you succeeded."

They all looked to the screen as Rangiku's photo appeared there, with her leaning ever so close to a decidedly distracted and vulnerable Ikkaku -- not a look he usually wore -- her blue eyes fastened on him beseechingly.

Hitsugaya tried to force a scowl, but found himself grinning, just a little, at someone else getting the brunt of his vice-captains attentions.

"Very good, nice proximity without contact," Tyra said.

"Uses her space -- and his -- but doesn't invade," Nigel said with a nod.

Tyra smiled at Rangiku, her left eye twitching slightly. "Thank you, Rangiku. Next up, Yoruichi."

Rangiku passed Yoruichi on the carpet as the dark-skinned woman approached the judges.

"Today you got to be one of the most famous women in history," Tyra said, raising an eyebrow. "How was that for you?"

Yoruichi nodded, smiling. "I liked it."

"And you got to work opposite Yumichika."

Yoruichi laughed a little. "He's much better as a male model."

Tyra nodded and looked to the screen. "Let's see your best photo."

On the screen appeared Yoruichi's photo. In it she had one hand on Yumichika's breastplate, gold eyes lingering on his, diadem and hair beads glittering in the torchlight.

"I see seduction, not pleading," Miss Jay said.

"Seduction could make him stay," Yoruichi offered.

"She's got a point," Nigel said.

Tyra nodded. "Thank you, Yoruichi. Let's see Orihime!"

Yoruichi returned to line as Orihime did her bouncy walk to the table, smiling at the judges.

"You got to be Scarlett of _Gone with the Wind_, begging Rhett to stay," Tyra said, a lilt in her tone.

Uryuu frowned, sitting straighter at the table.

"Let's see your best shot," Tyra said.

Orihime nodded as her photo appeared on the screen. In it she was leaned to Hisagi, hands clutched in his charcoal jacket lapel, her eyes pleading with him to stay, and mouth obviously caught moving.

"It's a good photo," Nigel said fairly, "but it would have been better if you did the speaking with your eyes instead of your mouth."

Orihime nodded.

"The lines between you and the male model are great," Tyra said, nodding at the photo, "your heights, body language, his reaction to whatever it was you were saying."

Uryuu studied the photo closer, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"Thank you, Orihime," Tyra said with a smile. "Okay, ladies," she said, standing and addressing the contestants, "you're dismissed while the judges deliberate, after which we will decide who goes on to the finale, and who goes home tonight."

Once the judges were alone at the table, Tyra set the first photo before her. "This is a very tough shoot they did today," she began. "We tend to communicate with our bodies and faces, but mostly with our voices, and taking that away to portray an emotion like _stay_ is difficult." She tapped the photo of Orihime. "This girl nailed the desperation of being alone, the desolation of _don't leave me_, but in every photo she's got her mouth open."

Nigel nodded. "If this were a commercial she'd be perfect."

"She is perfect," Uryuu said, leaning across Miss Jay to see the photo.

"But she didn't do the assignment," Miss Jay reminded.

"It's a good photo," Uryuu said.

Tyra looked down the table to the guest judge. "What do you think, _Captain_?"

Hitsugaya looked a little uncomfortable. "She wants him to stay and she's telling him. She's a pretty girl, but if she didn't do the assignment ..." He shrugged.

Nigel considered the photo. "Orihime has had some excellent photos. This is also a good one, but it doesn't fit the needs of cover art."

Tyra nodded and put the photo back in the pile and set another out. "Rangiku."

"Can I see that one?" Hitsugaya asked.

Nigel grinned and passed the photo to the guest judge.

Hitsugaya studied the photo in-depth, a smile twitching at his lips as he looked at the beckoning look on her face. "She's in. He'd give in," he said, pushing the photo to Nigel.

Uryuu nodded. "And she's not pawing at him. Not physically."

"Oh, she's pawing at him," Miss Jay said, nodding. "Just she's doing it with her eyes. That's cover art."

Tyra nodded. "He's right, and that's what the photo shoot was about."

Uryuu shook his head. "It wasn't pawing."

Tyra and Nigel both chuckled.

"The shoot was about pawing; just not the verbal or physical kind," Nigel said.

Uryuu reddened a bit, and looked to the photo Tyra brought out of Yoruichi.

"Now that is pawing," Uryuu said with a nod.

Hitsugaya frowned at the photo, his cheeks pinking a little.

Nigel half shrugged, grinning. "It's pawing on several levels, but he's resisting. He's not convinced to stay. The other two male models, they were giving in."

Hitsugaya looked closer at the photo of Cleopatra. "Are we judging the male or female models?"

Tyra giggled, fanning herself with the feathers. "He's got a point. The women, of course." She looked up and down the table. "Well, have we come to our decision?"

After a long moment, everyone nodded.

* * *

Three nervous contestants stood before Tyra, looking back at the judges table five minutes later. Tyra waited before the table, looking to each of them in turn. She took a deep breath.

"Before me stand three beautiful young ladies, each with what it takes to be The Next Top Model," she said softly. "But only one can win this competition, and one will be going home tonight. I have two photos in my hands, and the name of the girl I do not call, must go back to the Shiba house, and pack to go home."

The three contestants hooked hands together, smiling hopefully at each other.

"Today's challenge was tough, and it separated the best from the very best," Tyra said, pausing. She turned the first photo over. "Rangiku!"

Rangiku let out a shrill shriek, and did an excited trot down the carpet to receive her photo from Tyra.

"Congratulations, you're still in the running for The Next Top Model," Tyra said with a smile.

"Thank you!" Rangiku stood to one side of the runway carpet.

Tyra looked down the carpet. "Orihime, Yoruichi, please come down here."

The last two contestants approached the super model.

"Lots of good photos from both of you," Tyra said, looking to each. "Yoruichi, good photos, killer runway walk. Week after week, strong photos, but sometimes too much. Too strong." She looked to Orihime. "Sweet, sunny smiles, a raw naivete' you've managed to use to your advantage. Beautiful girl, but is that enough?" Tyra sighed, and after a dramatic pause, turned over the last photo. "Yoruichi, you're still in the running for The Next Top Model."

Yoruichi took the photo, smiling.

Orihime sniffed, not entirely shocked, forcing a smile. She wiped her hand over her eyes, not quite crying.

"You did so good, girl," Yoruichi said, turning to hug her.

"Thanks," Orihime whispered into her hair, and then looked to Tyra, refusing to cry. "Thanks, Tyra. I had a lot of fun."

"You've had a lot of good photos, princess." Tyra hugged her quickly. "Good luck."

"Thanks." Orihime looked sadly to the judges table, waving to Uryuu, who waved back and then visibly slumped in his chair.

Rangiku motioned the Living girl over and gave her a tight hug, planting a kiss on the top of her hair. Orihime turned and left the room.

And then there were two.

* * *

**Next: Finale**

**Who's The Next Top Model? Poll is up!**

**_Thanks for reading, reviewing, and voting!_**


	26. Finale

The day of the fashion show was dry, too warm and sunny, and the show's crewmen had spent hours transforming the large open area outside into a showcase for the imminent walk-off between Rangiku and Yoruichi. There were others, too, provided by what had become a last ditch effort when Tyra and the Jays realized there was not a model or talent agency to be found in all of Soul Society, and the scrambling to locate an additional twelve models ensued.

Fortunately, Uryuu Ishida had proved his capabilities as a designer, and the evening gowns were completed on time. Stuffing the newly acquired models into the gowns was now in progress.

Tyra walked down the center of the raised runway that afternoon, hands on her voluptuous hips, encased in a white Grecian style gown that showed her figure, nodding as she looked to either side. Around her came the flash of last minute lighting tweaks and the sound equipment being tested boomed.

"I like it," she said to Jay Manuel's assistant, who was escorting her, taking notes on a notepad. "The weather is working with us. That's a plus. Lord, it's hot here!"

Jay's assistant nodded.

Tyra pushed her hair from her face with a hand bejeweled in a smoky topaz slave bracelet, gold chains tinkling, looking to the low-rise bleachers to each side of the runway. Chairs were placed before the bleachers for captains, with designated spots behind them for vice-captains, with stadium seating for the rest of the divisions. To one side an area was sectioned off for the elders of Rukongai, and farther on, in the midst of the bleachers already claimed by Second Division, were four chairs reserved for a sect of judges from outside Soul Society.

No one really expected those chairs to be filled, but Second Division was hopeful.

Tyra pointed to the section of chairs in the front row midway down the runway. "Miss Jay, me," she said with a smile and capital _M_, "Nigel, and our guest judge." She nodded and waved to the guest judge as he entered at the far end of the show area. "There he is now. Ooh, _mama_," she purred, smiling with a sudden libido surge. "Gorgeous, don't you think?"

Jay's assistant debated his answer, looking to the man in the distance. "Slick."

Tyra wrinkled her face at the assistant. "Slick? No, he's smooth. Slick is tricky like that Aizen judge. Something sneaky about that handsome man. Smooth is absolutely scrumptious, like that Kyouraku judge." She smiled wider, preening a little as she started her own glide down the runway. "This one looks smooth."

Jay's assistant shrugged, and turned back to the dressing areas behind the stage, where trouble was brewing.

Uryuu looked around at the eleven _models_ milling around the dressing room, some half-naked, some half-dressed, all panicking, chaos at every mirror and make-up station lining one canvas curtained wall. "Wait!" he cried for the fourth time. "We're missing someone! Who's missing?"

Over the noise of the pulsing music that was now on track and grumbling of the women, all eyes went to him. The eleven former contestants stopped struggling with their evening gowns of varying colors to lend him their collective attention.

Kuukaku, towering over most of the other also-rans, looked out over the crowd. "I think we're all here."

Around her Nanao, Momo, Rukia, and Orihime gave the other models a cursory look. "Everyone is here," Nanao said. "I think."

Uryuu held up a cornflower blue satin gown by its hanger. "No. Someone isn't here." A look of dread coupled with relief washed over his face as he estimated the models. "Where's Yumichika?"

Yachiru hopped to his side, already in her pale pink gown trimmed with tiny bells. "He's not coming. Don't want to."

Uryuu paled. "He has to. He's a former contender. There has to be fourteen. I made fourteen gowns. _It's a collection!"_

Retsu came over to him, looking demure in her mauve gown, eyes on the blue dress. "Is that what you designed for him?"

Uryuu nodded too many times, frantically looking around the room to see Hiyori fidgeting in her tangerine gown, and then to where Orihime was zipping up Tatsuki's dress. "I need another warm body!"

Retsu nodded, smiling at him. "Stop flapping around, Quincy. I'll get you another model."

"She's got to be pretty," Uryuu called as Retsu made her way across the crowded dressing area. "And she has to be a she!"

Retsu nodded again, waving a hand at him, one hand scooping the skirt of her gown off the floor.

"You can't be seen in that yet!" he added, voice squeaking in desperation.

"Designers," Retsu mumbled, snagging one of the many capes hanging from a nearby mirror. "Quincys," she added, shaking her head at the cape and draping it over her shoulders before leaving the dressing area.

She wove her way through the maze of draped canvas walls, sound and lighting equipment, crewmen, and miscellaneous personnel -- including one very manly looking woman who was smoking a cigar and cursing at a cell phone at the perimeter -- until she was in view of the bleachers and runway, looking out over the seats being filled with black and white robes, spotting Tyra talking to Byakuya Kuchiki near the judges seats. It took Retsu a moment to find the section she wanted. She went there, waving off the complimentary murmurs from the other Division members, until she halted before the section comprised mostly of Eleventh and -- oddly -- Fourth Division members.

"Let's see it," Zaraki said, eyes falling over the cape as Retsu paused before the bleachers, a few steps in front of him. Beside him were Shunsui and Ukitake, with General Yamamoto farther down.

She gave him a reserved smile, fingers closing on the cape's edges, pulling it closer around herself. "Not yet," she called over the loud music. She searched the crowded stands, past Ikkaku and an alarmed Yumichika, and then up to the third bleacher to see her slightly peeved vice-captain sitting beside Renji and Hanatarou. "Isane, come down here."

Isane looked surprised, sitting straighter. "_Me_, Captain?"

Retsu smiled. "Yes, Isane. We've got a lovely gown for you."

Isane jumped to her feet so quickly she nearly knocked Renji and Hanatarou off the bleacher. "Yes, Captain Unohana!" She hastened down the riser, dangerously wedging herself hurriedly between Zaraki and Shunsui in the front row. She followed Retsu back to the dressing area.

After the blue dress was filled by Isane in the main dressing area and Uryuu made the necessary alterations, he bustled his way to the smaller room partitioned off, where Jay Manuel was giving the final two contestants a few runway directions before their walks. Uryuu blushed red as he glimpsed Rangiku and Yoruichi finagling into their evening gowns, until he remembered to look away.

"... final walks, so make it count," Jay was saying, dressed sharply in a black jacket over white shirt and pants. He tugged on a tendril of Rangiku's hair as it caught on a shoulder strap of the midnight blue silk gown.

He turned the gilt trimmed edge bemusedly so it lay flat. "Bright smiles, but not overly-indulgent, powerful walks, snap those turns, and make an impression. This will be the last chance you get before panel tonight."

Uryuu cleared his throat. "You both look very nice."

Yoruichi did a test pose before the floor length mirror, making the magenta silk gown fold over her curves, smiling back at him. "You like us in your _designs_, Quincy."

Uryuu shook his head. "I mean it. You look ... beautiful."

Rangiku looked to him, smiling at the blush beginning again across his face. She cupped his chin in one hand, stepping away from Jay. "Talented guy, Ishida-kun. If I win this, you make me a dress like this."

He stammered an answer as she withdrew and put her hands on her hips, looking to her reflection in the mirror, running a hand over the blue silk that wrapped around her torso, fanning out mid-thigh in a mermaid skirt. She adjusted the black pashmina scarf to drape across her back, sweeping behind to dangle at her elbows as she turned to see her backside, giving the mirror a flirty look. "That must be some sewing club you and Inoue have at school."

"Uh, well, yes ... it is." He looked to Yoruichi, who was fingering her dark hair that was pulled up high to fall in loose twists.

Jay's eyes traveled over Yoruichi's dress, looking for any minute problems. "A school sewing club? Is that how you got your start in fashion, Uryuu?"

Uryuu nodded, then shook his head. "Yes. You could say that."

Jay nodded, his attention going to Rangiku's dress for inspection. "Excellent story. It'll make a great biography, when someone writes one."

Yoruichi smiled slyly at Uryuu, patting her hair. The iridescent material hugged her in magenta folds, the plunging scoop neckline snug at her waist to fall into a wide, flowing skirt at her ankles. "Love the color."

"Oh, good. I'm happy you like it." Uryuu grew more uncomfortable as she let Jay arrange the twists in her hair. "I, uh, think I'll go see how Nemu and Captain Soifon are faring."

Yoruichi giggled. "So, Mr. Judge Ishida, will you be voting for one of us today, or for one of your dresses?"

"Uh, I'm not voting," he said, clearing his throat, looking from her to Rangiku. "I'll go see about the rest of them."

Jay grinned as Uryuu left. "He's a nervous one." He brushed what little backing there was of Yoruichi's dress with his hand. "More nervous than I've seen most designers on a show opening."

"If he's not judging," Rangiku said as the music changed to a stronger beat outside as the show opening neared, "it could be a split vote."

"Oh, no, honey," Jay said, raising an eyebrow and ushering them into the commotion of the main dressing area. "I'm judging today, too."

Yoruichi threw Rangiku a shrewd look. "We've been kissing-up to the wrong guy."

The tempo of the eurobeat music quickened, making the models in the holding area shift nervously on their high heels, clutching their stomachs with the jitters. Out on the runway Tyra was making a speech, something that Rangiku and Yoruichi couldn't quite hear clearly. Jay was hustling a somewhat reluctant Tatsuki into position at the edge of the opening curtains, giving her final directions before she was to make the first stomp down the runway.

The noise of the crowd rose, to be matched by the thumping beat of the music, and Jay pushed a tottering, wide-eyed gown-swagged Tatsuki into the limelight.

A cheer went up from the gathered crowd, and Tatsuki found a smile and made her galumph down the runway carpet.

"Kuukaku, you're next!" Jay called, waving over the woman, now with both arms.

Behiind the other models, Rangiku and Yoruichi peeked out between a doubled fold in the curtains that separated the holding area from the show's sideline.

"Ooh, everyone is here," Rangiku said. Yoruichi hovered near her shoulder to see the crowd.

A hoot and a holler went up from the more belligerent segment of audience as Kuukaku did her walk down the runway. She grinned her trademark maniacal smile in the direction of boar-riders and her brother, giving them a thumbs-up.

Rangiku and Yoruichi watched Kuukaku make her retreat and Hiyori begin her angry trot down the runway. In the judges' section were Miss Jay in all his purple suited glory, beside him Tyra in her white dress, Nigel to her side in a tailored sable suit looking handsome, and beside him Byakuya, enjoying himself more than he generally allowed. Yoruichi looked past the block of chairs designated for Rukongai's esteemed elders, past the captains section, and way up to the top bleachers where a familiar figure wearing a green and white hat sat with a rather large Kidou officer and two smaller figures shoving at each other.

She smiled. "It's been a very long competition."

Rangiku nodded and looked to the four empty chairs at the front of Second Division. Still empty.

Oh, well, it was too much to expect, she knew. Too much to hope for.

She looked to where Hisagi and Kira were sitting behind Hitsugaya. She smiled at her captain, who was watching Retsu do her walk on the runway, saw the short captain's face register a bit of disappointment as Rukia took her strut on the runway, happier in her gown than the lingerie, followed by Yachiru's happy bop down the carpet.

Rangiku sighed. "The time moved so fast I didn't realize how long it's really been." She saw Hitsugaya's face light up, a genuine smile on his lips as Momo began her stomp down the carpet. "A very long time."

"I don't know what to do!" Isane was suddenly heard wailing from the front of the holding area as Jay tried to give her a crash course in runway strut. Behind them Soifon took her turn on the runway, her eyes on the four empty chairs more than the carpet before her.

Rangiku and Yoruichi took their place in line behind Nanao, Nemu, and Orihime as Isane found herself suddenly in the spotlight, music pounding around her, wobbly on her heels, cornflower blue gown looking surprisingly form-fitting with Uryuu's last minute alterations.

A bellow of cheers went up as Isane did a passable stomp down the runway, smile growing as she went, pausing before striking a modest pose at the end.

She was followed by Nanao, and then Nemu, and then Orihime's flouncy walk, which had lost little appeal since her elimination. From the Ryoka section -- just below where the Shoten residents sat -- Ichigo and Chad whooped and waved as the Living girl passed. Orihime flashed them a peace sign as she did her end of the runway pose.

Jay was grinning, as he'd been for the last fifteen minutes, as he indicated Rangiku. "You're next, sweetheart."

Rangiku nodded.

She appeared at the beginning of the runwway, the spotlight casting her shapely silhouette on the cream curtain behind her. She put one hand on her hip, pausing as she looked out over the crowd of mostly shinigami, a few townsfolk, all the previous judges, sans the four empty chairs, and started down the carpet at a gait half strut, half swagger. Cameras flashed around her, the dark blue satin skirt flowing, her smile inviting. The crowd roared approval, making Tyra turn in her chair to look at the black-clad audience behind her.

Rangiku stomped to a stop, struck a seductive, daring pose at the end of the runway, the copper glitter on her shoulders and decollete' catching the natural light. She turn abruptly and headed back down the walk, black scarf draped across her back at her crooked elbow, trailing from her other hand.

When Rangiku returned, Yoruichi took her turn. She halted at the carpet for a second, and then moved out at a quick pace as the crowd cheered. The camera flashes danced off her iridescent magenta dress, sparkled off the bronze glitter dusted on her shoulders, touched at the low cut of her neckline, hem sweeping just above her heels. She sent an bewitching smile across the audience as she struck her pose, angling one hip to the side before turning and stomping back to the holding area.

Once at the rear of the runway it was another pass, all of the models in a line, catching some of them by surprise.

"No!" Jay suddenly realized he was in trouble as Tatsuki began the end walk -- barefoot.

"Everybody put their shoes back on!" Jay ordered.

Rukia, Yachiru, and Hiyori were already barefoot, and ignored him, instead taking their place in line for the final walk.

"Holy meard, Tyra's going to kill me," Jay said as the models disappeared out through the curtains.

Uryuu tagged along after Yoruichi, smiling more than he had in years, reddening a little at the applause that went up from the crowd, who were on their feet, knowing the bulk of the applause couldn't be for his creations. At the end of the runway, as Yoruichi took the final turn, he turned and caught up with Orihime, who gave him a wide smile, and hooked her arm under his for the walk back.

"Good job! Good job, ladies!" Jay called as the models returned, smiling in relief. "Even without the shoes -- well done, still good."

Everyone headed to the dressing area, where shoes were kicked off, and assorted complaints arose from stuck zippers, sticky hair unmoving under layers of spray, and a shriek when Tyra burst through one of the draped wall segments.

"Hey, hey, girls!" she shouted, smiling and hopping on her gilt heels. "Wow, ya'll did so good tonight."

"Thanks, Tyra!" came the rush of reply.

Tyra found Rangiku and Yoruichi and waded through the silk and satin dresses being shucked off. She gave each of them a hug, smiling and giggling. "You did good! Powerful walks, working the angles, showing that strut that got you this far. And the audience loved you both!"

Yoruichi and Rangiku smiled back at her, anxious to get out of the gowns.

"You've got one last panel yet," Tyra said, raising an eyebrow. "You've got fifteen minutes to get out of these," she gestured to the gowns, "and meet us at the judges table."

Rangiku and Yoruichi nodded.

* * *

The final panel was gathered at the judges table shortly after the runway show, sounds of the audience leaving the stands still audible from nearby. Uryuu was seated at the far end of the table beside Miss Jay, Tyra in her center chair, with Jay Manuel now to her left, followed by Nigel, and the guest judge, Byakuya Kuchiki, whose usual aloof demeanor was slightly askew in light of the recent show.

"I got to say," Miss Jay said, "you are one of the best put-together looking fellas I've ever seen, and we've had some real lookers this season." He wagged a finger in Byakuya's direction. "We've had several judges wearing those outfits, and none of 'em looked like you in 'em. That's what separates the polish from the general masses."

Tyra nodded, her gaze fastened on Byakuya. "It's not the rank, is it? 'Cuz we've had other captains judge."

Byakuya looked past Nigel and Jay to Tyra. "I'm nobility. I don't think you've had other judges of my _status_ here."

"Ooh, nobility," Miss Jay said, tapping his tiara, lifting his eyebrows, looking down his nose at the guest judge and adopting a cultured female British accent. "Well, that makes all the bloody difference now, doesn't it, sir?"

Byakuya wasn't quite sure what to make of the man in the purple suit. "Yes. Yes, it does."

Nigel studied Byakuya. "Not royalty?"

Byakuya held his stare. "Nobility."

Jay grinned and looked to the doorway as the final two contestants appeared there, dressed in black slip dresses and heels, their hair brushed out but still voluminous.

Byakuya cracked a regal smile.

Tyra scooted out of her chair and stood, smiling graciously back at the women. "Good show today, ladies," she said softly, leading a round of polite clapping from the judges. "Both of you gave a good show." She smiled and waved an arm at them. "Come on down here and we'll look at your best photos."

Rangiku and Yoruichi both approached the judges table, looking back at the judges, nodding slightly to the guest judge.

"Before we get started, allow me to remind you who makes up our panel." She angled a jeweled hand to her right at the table. "First we have Mr. Uryuu Ishida, noted fashion designer, who created those lovely dresses you all wore on the runway today, and who will be contributing to our deliberation, but sitting out of the actual judging today."

She made a small bow to Uryuu, who blushed, swelling with pride at his new notoriety.

Tyra indicated the next judge. "Miss Jay Alexander, runway coach extraordinaire."

Miss Jay circled a finger around one of the two remaining points on his tiara.

Tyra gestured to the other side of the table. "Jay Manuel, your photo shoot director who mama hen'd you throughout the competition."

Jay smiled and waved. "Hi, ladies."

"Hi, Jay," Yoruichi and Rangiku returned, smiling.

"Mr. Jay is voting today also," Tyra said. "Our very own Nigel Barker, sought-after photographer to the modeling elite."

Nigel gave them a charming smile and waved.

"And, our _special_ guest judge," Tyra said, drawing out the word, "Captain Byakuya Kuchiki, from the noble House of Kuchiki."

Rangiku made a short bow to the last judge. Yoruichi flashed him a mischievous smile Byakuya recalled from her earlier hair-tie stealing days of their youth.

"Now, let me tell you about the prizes," Tyra said for the final time of the season. "First is a contract with Up Front Agency, a very well-known, highly respected Japanese agency responsible for producing some of the top idols in Asia. There's also a two-page spread in _BLT_ magazine, a multi-million yen contract with Revlon cosmetics, and finally, $100,000 US. Just over twelve million yen." She raised an eyebrow. "A lot at stake. Let's take a look at the runway footage from today's show."

The lights went down as Tyra sat in her chair, and all eyes looked to the screen.

It picked up toward the end of the show, with Rangiku appearing at the runway and proceeding to do her stomp down the carpet, deep blue skirt flowing around her as she moved.

"Rangiku has a strong walk, working the scarf, enough swish to her hips without putting the hootch in it," Nigel narrated, pointing to the screen. "She's got --"

"Hootch?" Byakuya repeated.

"You know, _hootch_," Miss Jay emphasized. "Putting the street in walker."

Byakuya nodded slowly, glancing at Yoruichi. who gave him a slight shake of her head.

"A little is okay," Tyra said, smiling at the guest judge, "but too much puts a model into another category."

They watched the screen as Rangiku struck her pose, turned, and made her way back down the runway.

Nigel nodded. "She's a natural."

Byakuya looked to Rangiku with new interest.

Next Yoruichi appeared at the end of the runway onscreen, advancing down the carpet with her flirty stride, magenta dress sweeping the carpet as she moved fluidly to the end and holding her pose before returning.

"Yoruichi has the classic smooth walk, not quite gliding, but definitely feline," Nigel said as Tyra opened her mouth to speak. "She's come a long way from her first walk."

The screen went blank and the lights came up. Tyra smiled back at the finalists, standing behind the table. "Both strong walks, both beautiful girls, both would make an impact on the modeling world. I'm going to ask you to leave the room while we deliberate, and we'll call you back in to announce who is The Next Top Model."

When Yoruichi and Rangiku had left, Tyra sat down and looked to each of the judges in turn. "This is it, guys, our last vote." She pushed her hair back from her face and sighed. "Is it just me or is it hot in here?"

Miss Jay nodded limply. "It's a hot one, Tyra-baby."

She shrugged and looked to the screen. "We've got two strong models, each with something different to offer as The Next Top Model. Let's take a look at some of their best previous photos. Are we keyed up, boys?"

The head cameraman nodded and pointed to the screen. On it flashed side by side photos of _Red Amazon_ and _The Executioner_.

Nigel nodded. "The Boris Vallejo shoot. Both found the light in that challenge, both looking strong."

Jay's eyes were on the screen. "You know, Rangiku's movements in that shoot were unrehearsed yet somehow self-choreographed, the way she worked the lighting and the props, like she'd been doing it for years."

Byakuya appraised the photos, trying to identify the head Yoruichi was holding. "It's very realistic."

Miss Jay nodded. "Both are aware of their bodies, how the light hits them, not a bad pose among them."

Tyra's left eye twitched as she nodded in agreement. "Not many off-days for either of them."

The screen changed to the Textures photos, with Yoruichi crouched on the boulder and Rangiku leaning against said boulder, both smiling back at the camera.

"Rangiku's photo is right out of a Fifties pin-up, with more clothing," Nigel said as he grinned at the photos. "Yoruichi here has reined in that hootch factor without losing the seductive edge."

"Both are looks each of the finalists have used all through the competition," Jay said, "but this is the best of their styles."

"They'd both sell, both would book all over the world," Tyra said.

"But which would be more marketable?" Miss Jay said.

Byakuya studied the photos. "You have to admit Miss Yoruichi has the exotic appeal. Rangiku," he made a half shrug, "appealing in other ways."

"I can see them working as soon as one of them won," Nigel said, eyes remaining on the screen.

Tyra smiled engagingly. "They will be." The judges looked to her. "Up Front Agency already has the winner booked for three photo shoots and tentative work for the next eight months."

Miss Jay whistled, eyes widening. "The word is getting around."

"Any thoughts, Captain Byakuya?" Tyra asked, smiling down the table.

Byakuya considered the screen for a long moment. "I've decided."

Nigel looked to him. "We still have to vote."

Byakuya sent a sharp glance to Tyra. "I was under the impression I was the judge here."

Uryuu chuckled, until Byakuya made eye contact with him.

"Yes, we value your opinion," Tyra said soothingly, "but we're all judges here, and we all have a voice in the final outcome."

Byakuya looked uncharacteristically insulted.

Tyra tilted her head to one side. "Have we made our final decision, gentlemen?"

* * *

Ten minutes later the finalists were called back into the room where Tyra stood before the judges table, the screen blank to her right. Behind her the judges sat, faces belying nothing as Yoruichi and Rangiku stood midway down the runway carpet. Tyra smiled at them, hands clasped before her. Except for Byakuya, who was sulking in a noble way.

Tyra smiled at the finalists. "Before me stand two talented women. You both have the looks, the walk, you know your angles. One has that exotic allure," she said, looking to Yoruichi before turning her attention went to Rangiku, "one that sultry appeal."

The screen blinked white, and all eyes went to it.

"The winner of The Next Top Model is ..." Tyra said with a pause for affect, the screen flashing again.

Rangiku's photo appeared on the screen.

"Rangiku!" Tyra cheered, arms outstretched, smiling grandly.

_"Me_?" Rangiku stared stunned at the screen, and then squealed, throwing her arms around Yoruichi, who hugged her back with equal fervor, a good-sport smile on her face. "I can't believe it!"

"Congratulations," Yoruichi said, mussing Rangiku's hair.

Tyra beamed at them both. "How does it feel to be The Next Top Model, Rangiku?"

The finalists separated and Rangiku fanned a hand in front of her face, trying to catch her breath. "I don't know yet!"

"Well, you better get used to it, girl," Tyra said, giving her a quick hug and holding her at arm's length. "You've got two photo shoots scheduled in London next week, and one in Rome, before it's off to Hawaii."

"Next week?" Rangiku said, her face losing some of its glee.

Tyra nodded. "After that, you're jet-setting to Paris, and on to Los Angeles."

"...Oh." Rangiku frowned, looking to Yoruichi, who appeared surprised also at the itinerary. "How long will all this take?"

"How long ... how _long_?" Tyra echoed, her composure faltering.

"You're a top model now," Nigel said, rising with the Jays and joining them at the carpet. "Nothing will be the same. Congratulations, Rangiku." He gave her a lingering hug, followed by one from each of the Jays.

Rangiku parted from Jay, looking to Tyra. "How long is this going to last?"

Tyra laughed, waving a hand at her. "As long as the industry allows. Modeling can be a few years, or a lifetime -- that's twenty years, on the plus side," she said lower, leaning to Rangiku. "This can be a career."

"A career change, honey-child," Miss Jay added.

Rangiku looked to where Byakuya was still sitting, and then to Uryuu down the table. She shrugged. "I can't. I've got a job." She rolled her eyes. "Do you know how far I am behind in paperwork already, just to come here?" She smiled. "I can't leave my taicho."

"Your what?" Tyra began to comprehend. "You don't, you don't ...?"

"I don't want it." Rangiku turned to Yoruichi. "Do you want it?"

"Years?" Yoruichi shook her head, crossing her arms. "No way."

Tyra sagged as she grasped the issue. "You don't want it? Ya'll don't want it?"

Rangiku and Yoruichi nodded.

Tyra huffed in disbelief. "Then why for did ya'll try out if ya didn't want the prize? Hmm?" she asked with a ghetto swagger. "Answer me that!"

"I just wanted to win," Rangiku said, trying to run a hand through her still-starched hair. She grimaced and pulled her fingers out.

Tyra leveled her attention on Yoruichi. "You, too? You don't want to model? Just _win_?"

Yoruichi nodded.

Nigel cleared his throat as the Jays stared dumbstruck at the women. "I think it's over, Tyra."

"Thanks," Rangiku said as the twitch in Tyra's eye came back in force. "It was fun. Thanks, everyone."

She waved to the judges, and then nodded to Yoruichi, before turning. Together the two finalists walked back down the carpet runner, and through the doorway.

Tyra let out a scream of bewilderment and frustration that was heard all across Seireitei. "_No one wants it?!"_

And then, there was Tyra.

* * *

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